Swing for the Fences
by JoAnneKay
Summary: "This will be my year." "But it is morning. Morning of a new period in our education. The Yato-sama era." Hiyori Iki has one dream: become a renowned MMA fighter. There's only one place that can help her achieve that: Hafuri Studio and the God of Calamity, an impossibly skilled trainer whose name sends shivers down the crowds' spine.
1. Year of Beginnings

_This will be my year._

Even though her brother's loud complaining was blaring at her through the earphones, those were the only words Hiyori Iki had on her mind that afternoon.

" _What do you mean, you're not coming this semester? I've alredy prepared your room! I've planned out a welcome back dinner for you! Where are you right now?_ "

"On a train," she peeked over her shoulder to glance at the arrivals schedule as she leisurely replied to her brother. Almost there. "I'm sorry, I'd have told you sooner, but I wasn't sure if Mom and Dad would agree to it. I really would."

" _And they said yes?_ "

She made a face at the window. "Of course they did. They said that skipping a year isn't that big of a deal, as long as I get my degree. Mom even suggested that I take more if I need. That free time is a serious self-discovering journey that should not be taken lightly." Their parents could be amazingly considerate.

" _Well, they can be awfully considerate_ ," Masaomi mumbled. Then, after a short pause, he added " _What are you gonna do then? Except skip our dinner, I mean?_ "

"Oh, I'm still thinking about it." The train halted to a stop. "Probably some travelling? I've wanted to return to Hokkaido for some time."

" _Alone?_ "

"Yes."

" _Totally alone?_ "

Hiyori laughed and jumped out of the wagon. "Want to come with, brother?"

An excessive groan sounded on the other end of the line. " _I can't miss work for a year. You know that. "_ She did know that, it was precisely the reason she had even dared to ask. " _But, who is going to take care of you?"_

Looking around to check her direction, Hiyori chuckled. "I believe that would be me." She glanced down at her arms, hidden in the sleeves of a pink trench. It was a bit of a private joke- Masaomi claiming he was supposed to be there to protect his little sister, even though said sister would be able to knock him out in a matter of seconds if it came to a showdown. Thanks to years of "losing her head and time to weird hobbies", of course.

And really, his voice instantly softened. " _I have no doubts. But I would really feel better if somebody -"_

Hiyori turned a corner and stopped in her tracks.

"Ah,I- I'll have to hang up now!"

 _"_ _Oh. Call me later tonight, okay? Alright, have a safe trip!"_ She nodded and absentmindedly pressed the red button on the phone screen.

Above her loomed at least 7 floors of light yellow façade and various niches and closed balconies. Most of the highest level was covered by a top-to-floor window which, she guessed, offered a wonderful view of the city shimmering beneath the spring sun. People were sitting on massive stairs in front of the entrance, chatting under a big sign that announced the building's name: " _Hafuri_ ".

It looked even better live than on the TV. The pictures on their website didn't do it justice.

She repositioned the bag on her back and climbed up the stairs. Every step was followed by a thump on the rich marble, after pushing through the glass door, she entered a big lobby. To her right were a few sets of lounge sofas and coffee tables, and to her left… To her left, a trophy exhibition. A wall entirely covered in photos of champions of a wide range of age and clothing smiling and shining their medals at the camera, groups hugging and posing after their matches. Various cups and medals were there too, too shiny and big to overlook, but blending in with the rest of the treasures that were lined on the shelves. _Hafuri_ hadn't earned its status by chance- years and years of effort and tournaments and awards gave it its name, having this hall as an undeniable proof.

Hiyori took just a moment to dream. She shook her head. She wouldn't stop on dreaming alone.

And so she approached the desk positioned across the room from the entrance. A young blonde woman sat in front of a computer screen. Noticing the girl, she smiled brightly. "Hello! Welcome to Studio _Hafuri_ , how may I help you?"

"Hello! I'm Hiyori Iki, we talked on the phone last week? I'm here to see," her heart jumped a bit, "one of your coaches… Yato-san?"

She didn't manage to find his full name anywhere online, but based on the woman's reaction, just "Yato" was enough. The blonde scrunched up her nose for a second. "Sure, Iki-san." She pressed a tiny button of a microphone on her desk. "Tell Yato his 4 PM appointment is here."

 _Just Yato again_ , Hiyori noticed. _No honorifics, either._

The woman turned back to her, a smile on her face again. "Hall 5, take the right hallway elevator, second floor, turn right and keep going until you see a big 5 sign. Do you want me to call for a guide?"

"Thank you that will be enough!" Hiyori answered over her shoulder and skipped to the elevator.

Once inside, she pressed the second floor button. Her hands covered an impatient smile. In a matter of minutes, she'd be standing in the same room as the God of Calamity.

Finding Hall 5 was easy. As she opened the door to the big soft-padded gym, it was relieving to see that it was still empty. She had some time to prepare for the trial meeting. Judging from the equipment scattered around two big fence-encircled rings, the room was obviously intended for sparring training - perfect. She took out gloves from her bag and took off her trench and hoodie, picking a dummy close to a bench to leave her things in the vicinity. The trip from her parents' house was more than enough to get her blood running, but doing a few warm up exercises would be better. Of course. Hiyori expected quite a lot from the next hour or so- she prepared herself for sparring, and revised the little speech she had prepared a hundred times in the past few days (just in case she needed it- what if he decided she wasn't qualified enough to stay? She couldn't have that). He'd definitely want to see what she was capable of, and impressing him enough to earn some special lessons would be hard.

The first time Hiyori saw him was just a few weeks ago, when her MMA club hosted a friendly meeting in their gym to commemorate the end of the semester. The students weren't allowed to participate, but were required to attend as a bonus seminar. (It was a great experience for her; nothing beat the thrill of seeing a real match unfolding. Well, except participating in one, but it was the next best thing.) She was already tired from all the shouting and jumping she had been doing since that morning, and her hand hurt from clutching the pencil for too long-there was an instructor sitting right next to her, so she tried to appear as professional as possible. It was one of the final matches of the meeting, a coach from her club was alredy in one corner of the cage. Ishi, as strong and stubborn as a rock. Hiyori was often enough at the other side of his harsh methods that laughing behind his back with other students didn't feel too mean.

And then, a tiny figure appeared on the stage. Well, looking back, he wasn't as tiny as it seemed at first glance- it was probably him standing next to Ishi, a heavyweight champion that created that impression. The man's messy ink-black hair reached right to Ishi's collarbone, and although finely sculptured, he was nowhere near buff enough to close the distance that the missing pounds left gaping open.

"Look closely, girl," whispered her instructor, not taking her eyes from the man shaking Ishi's arm, "Carefully."

Hiyori did as she was told or at least had tried to, because after the bell rang, the dark-haired fighter appeared to be nothing more than a swift line of lightning speeding across the cage.

To Ishi's credit, he did try to follow his movements. But whenever he lunged to the place where his opponent was supposed to reappear, he got kicked in the shins, or grabbed from the side, or simply ended up on the floor for whatever reason.

Three supposed-to-be-five-minute rounds ended in a blink. The winner smiled through his mouthguard (it made it look closer to a snarl) and helped Ishi up before ignoring the door and jumping out of the ring. The crowd went crazy, clapping and screaming, a single name clear in the undistinguishable noise that filled the air: _God of Calamity_.

Hiyori's fist connected to the dummies head.

She had spent that entire night watching online videos of his previous fights, trying to understand at least a bit of what she was seeing. She settled for the slow motion mode and made an effort to break down his movements one by one, find a pattern, but it was almost impossible- when she predicted he might go left, he jumped up. When she was sure he would use that one move preferred in case of being tackled from downwards, he would thrill her by introducing a completely abstractly-styled kick. Morning had arrived, and she was still at square one- this time wondering why the heck a person like him wasn't alredy a world-famous champion. He was a God, indeed.

It was hard to believe he was even a real person. But he was, and she… will be meeting him. The God of Calamity. The thought alone made her dizzy. And if he really accepted her wish… She'd finally have a chance to win her own personal battle.

Hiyori bit back her smile and swung once again.

"Hey, you must be the new kid, right? Well, nice to meet you, name's-"

Her fist connected to something warm and… alive. Her eyes flew open as a loud yelp shot through the mist of anticipation that surrounded her thoughts.

"Oh, no!" The horrified girl threw herself next to the figure crouching under her dummy. "I am so sorry! I spaced out, I didn't mean to hit you! I'm so sorry!"

Her bag was next to them. Alarmed by a few drops of blood on her glove, Hiyori grabbed it in favor of finding for some water and tissues.

" _Well_ , " a grave voice came out muffled through hands folded over his nose, "you sure could make a few heads roll."

"Oh," her cheeks flushed with surprise at the compliment coming from somebody she had just injured. She nudged him to remove his fingers to allow a better view of the damage. "It was nothing, it was-" She froze. "… God."

He chuckled once, like _Ha!_. "Interesting. What pissed him off this time?"

"No, I mean… I…" There was a reason there were tissues in her hands, she was sure of it. She just couldn't quite recall anything except the familiar person in front of her. And then it all returned, crashing down all at once.

 _She punched the God of Calamity._

"If you don't mind, I sure could use one of those tissues."

 _And possibly broke his nose._

"I am so sorry!" Hiyori's trembling hands refused to pull out the paper fast enough so she accidently ripped it in the process. Yato didn't seem to mind, he just looked happy to have something to plug the little stream of blood dripping from his nostrils. " I really just- here, have thi- ah, no!" Instead on the tissue, she spilled water right on her pants leg.

" Look, it's okay!" he picked up the bottle himself and started dabbing his bloodied chin. " Nothing's broken! It hurts like a _bitch_ , but I've had worse. Just… just breathe, okay? Please don't faint, I don't need to spend _another_ night writing one of those stupid reports."

She blinked, confused by the uncharacteristic tone he used. But it certainly made her pulse slow down (altough she was pretty sure her heart would jump out of her ribcage and run away in shame any minute now). And now that he mentioned it, his nose was still in the centre of his sharp face, just a bit red.

But that did not erase the offense she had just subjected him to. Hiyori bowed her head. "Please forgive me. It will not happen again."

"Then why are you here, if not to try to give me another bruise or two?"

He was _joking_. "I really want- Please let me stay and train with you for the next year. And maybe even longer, I have so much to learn, if- if you'll have me."

Yato didn't respond. _No_ , she thought. _No, no, no, please don't refuse. Please._ Hesitating, she glanced up from under her bangs.

He didn't seem angry- instead, his eyes were wide with slight surprise. They were different than in the photos, she noticed- a bright shade of blue. However, they quickly darkened as he slowly stood up.

"What's your name?" There wasn't much interest behind that question.

"Hiyori Iki."

"Sure. No problem. If you'll be able to make it through the year, I don't know why I would send you away, Iki-san."

The doubt in his voice made the blood rush to her cheeks. "I will. I believe you will find it hard to leave me behind. I'll do absolutely everything to keep up with whatever you find fitting to teach me, Yato-sama."

He snapped back to her. Immidiately she thought she was a bit too disrespectful in her claim- but his face was, in fact, shining with… glee? The change was so sudden she scooted backwards a bit.

"Well," he puffed his chest, "I am a damn good teacher. You'll be able to kick major ass in no time, you'll see."

"O-oh… that's great!" _What is this?_ Her head felt a bit light. "Shall we- the training schedule. When are you free?"

He waved his hand, the other one on his chin as if he was deep in thought. "Just come in whenever suits you best. This place."

"Really? Every day? Just… whenever?"

"Yep!" He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her from the floor. " Except during lunchtime. You can kiss the door in that case, as far as I'm concerned."

"Isn't that a bit… vague? And weren't we supposed to- Don't you want to check if I'm even ready to be tra-"

But he wasn't listening anymore. He flipped out a blue cellphone and started typing something. She waited for a bit, hoping he'd look back in her direction, but when that didn't happen she decided to leave. Gathering her unused equipment, she observed him from the corner of her eye. It was next to impossible to imagine this weird guy as the black lightning that dominated every stage it touched, that this was the intimidating encounter that kept her awake previous nights. His goofy grin and two tissues sticked up his nose didn't exactly help, either.

 _But I have a feeling that isn't all there is to this guy._

Even though yesterday Yato had proved very… welcoming when it came to scheduling, Hiyori still decided to schedule another appointment with the blonde at the entrance before going back to her apartement. She didn't want him leaving her to wait in an empty gym until he remembers in the middle of grocery shopping that they were supposed to meet up. Or something similiar. Whatever he did in his (obviously vast amount of) free time.

It was supposed to be the last night before her first training with the God of Calamity. She was supposed to sleep and gather as much energy as she could. But her head was still buzzing with thoughts of bloodied noses and discarded dummies; it did a great job of keeping her awake. She made herself some herb tea, turned on the TV and watched the 2AM drama reruns block. That did the trick, but once she finally fell asleep, noses turned into intense eyes and cellphones, too real to shake off.

And at 4 pm sharp the next day, she was standing in Hall 5 with him once again.

"Mornin'!"

Despite the fact that his hair _did_ look as if he just woke up, she went with the appropriate "Good afternoon, Yato-sama."

"But it _is_ morning. Morning of a new period in your education. The Yato-sama era. We'll begin with learning what is a starting stance and what do we use it for," Yato called from his place while balancing on top of a dummy, straightened back and hands on his hips.

Hiyori mimicked his pose in the middle of one of the stages, minus the grin, "I don't think that's what I need instructions on."

"You say you have alredy mastered it?"

"Yes, I've been taking MMA lessions for a few years now."

He clapped. "Great! Less job for me. Then, show me your favorite starting move."

That was easy enough. She repositioned her feet and just prepared to sweep low with her right leg when-

"No! No, that is not- I thought you said you knew the stance?"

She glanced down at his confused face. "E-eh?"

"The starting position! Don't tell me you call _that_ mastered?"

"Well, I-I'm doing everything right?" A bead of ghostly sweat tickled her brow as she checked the accuracy of her statement. "No, it's fine," she breathed, "chin down, elbows close, keep moving, left foot forward, right back, weight in the… centre…"

The dissapointed look didn't go away from those piercing eyes.

"It's alphabetical!" Panic was starting to surge in her veins as she babbled on. _Just how oblivious was she?_ "So I don't forget anything! It's the shorter version, but my trainer has taught me the longer version t-"

"Look, it's obvious that it's wrong. Think fast," he swung a glove at her, making her yell in surprise. "See? See? Right there! Slow and wrong!"

Hiyori tried to ignore the pang of shame in her temples. She knew there were different types of formations, but also always felt quite alright with using the basic one she was taught all those years ago. The need for trying out something new had never surfaced. So her voice came out relatively small as she asked, "Is it really not good enough?"

"Oh no, no, it is good enough!" Yato snapped his fingers. "Just good enough to last exactly _this_ long before getting kicked out of the window with your teeth tucked real damn neat in a jam jar."

 _Whoa._

"Could you then maybe… show me how to do a proper stance?"

"Who? Me?" Another _Ha!_. "No way. You'll have to do that yourself. Show me… Stand as if you're preparing to jump in a fight, but not as a contestant. Try to mix in a bit of something you see in the movies. Just relax. All natural."

Her hands suddenly seemed very heavy and out of place. _All natural._ As seen on TV? That was the exact _opposite_ of the instructions usually drilled into her head. _All natural._

"Aha, no, that's _too_ movies. Keep in mind that funny recital from earlier."

Now he was sitting on the fence right in front of her, taking out… a pack of sweets. "Now you're _too_ relaxed. If I decided to pat your stomach, you'd prematurely spill out all that yummy cake. Mint?"

"How do you…"

"Oh, I love that shop next to the bus stop! I could drown in their cupcakes. Have you tried them yet? Peach ones are the best."

He must've noticed the plastic wrapper peeking out of her jacket, she realized. "No, I've… never went there before today, actually."

"Try them tomorrow. Today, lesh tawking and mowe wowkin."

 _You were the one talking!_

It was getting a bit overwhelming. Desperaton started dripping in from the cracs in her resolve punctured during yesterday's meeting. How could the too-serious, intimidating streak of light that was the God of Calamity share the same face as this… this ridiculous man with a voice disorted by a stupid _mint_ \- was it really too big to properly fit into his mouth?!

"Noh, now yewr thoo-"

"Let me guess, too natural?"

Yato hurried to answer and swallowed the drop. "No! Why? Listen carefully now, my young pupil," he leaned torwards her, suddenly serious, as if getting ready to give out a secret. "It's _never_ too natural. There is a lot to think about while fighting, and it's good to get as many of those thoughts out of the way while you can. The person in front of you sure as hell won't wait for you to get your crown sitting comfortably enough before they dropkick your head from beneath it."

Now, _this_ was more like it.

"I'll make sure to remember that, Yato-sama!"

"Hehe," he rested his hands behind his head. "Now don't try too hard, or it will become another stupid thing you'll have to forget about."

A few hours later, Hiyori bid goodbye to the desk lady and pushed her way outside, cold air shocking her still-warm face. The sun has alredy set, but _Hafuri_ 's lighting was providing a view of the steps and surrounding pavement as clear as during the day.

However, now there were no people hanging out in front of it- which made her wonder if the candy shop was still open. Even though during training she did nothing but stand in various positions, cupcakes _did_ sound pretty great. Maybe not peach- she wasn't too fond of peaches- but if strawberry or simple chocolate were availible-

A sneeze interrupted her descent.

"Ehh?!"

Her previous observation had been wrong- there _was_ somebody in front of the studio. A single sleeping figure at the edge of the entrance, hidden partially by the massive steps. A pretty _small_ figure.

 _Probably a club member waiting for a ride home,_ Hiyori concluded and continued her way, reaching the street lit from the inside of the sweets shop. But as she was paying for a banana-chocolate goody, she found the restless tug in her gut still present. There was still around 25 minutes before she had to board her train. Enough to do a quick check. Just to make sure.

Hurrying over the road and back to _Hafuri_ , she tried to think of something to say to the stranger. Waking her up seemed rude, but leaving her out there when it was obviously too cold to be cozy seemed even worse. Maybe she could offer to call her parents. Or ask whose student she was- they would know what to do about it.

But when she got near to the sleeping child, she noticed a few things she had not before.

First, she was wearing a jacket a few sizes too big. Second, the jacket wasn't big enough to cover a school unform that proved that the child in question wasn't actually a girl at all. Nor was the fur lining the hood thick enough to cover a bouquet of bruises blossoming from a cut on his lip over his nose, right cheek and eye.

The third realization made Hiyori's voice shaky.

"H-hey… Wake up," she nudged the arm crossed over the shoolbag. "Wake up, please."

The boy groaned. His eyelashes fluttered. _Thank god_.

"How do you feel?"

"Just fine…"

She attempted to help him stand up, but he beat her to it and steadied his legs by himself. No problems with balance, no swaying. No vomit was visible anywhere near, either. These were all good signs- concussion was a _terrible_ experience to have.

"Have you let somebody examine those?"

"Examine…?"

"Your bruises. They look fresh. Have you gotten hurt in training?"

" _What?_ " he snapped. Then he blinked a few times. "Oh. Right. Yes, training. I… there was a bit of an accident and I… was just waiting for a bus. To go to the hospital. So they can fix it. Yeah."

She frowned, dusting stray strands of grass off from his bag. "Are you sure you'll be able to get there by yourself? It's getting pretty late."

"What's with the questions? Of course I'm not going alone, I'm meeting my parents halfway and we'll be going together from that point on."

"Oh," She had no idea what else to say. It was obvious she was making him uncomfortable. "Anyway, you shouldn't wait out here. It's pretty cold."

"I'm fine."

"I _did_ hear you sneezing just now. Let's go back to the lobby."

Pink covered his unbruised cheek. He grabbed the schoolbag from her grip. "My bus is here! Good thing you woke me up. Right on time. Bye!" With that, he ran for the headlights in the distance.

"W-wait! That is-"

But the boy was alredy gone, leaving the rest of Hiyori's yell unheard.

She watched the bus disappear around the corner. But the uneasy feeling did not go away no matter how long she tried. So she turned on her heel and went the other direction.

After all, she had yet to pass the first step of ensuring _her_ face wouldn't look like that after matches, with a real God of Calamity peeking over her shoulder at all times.

 _Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough._


	2. Blow Up

**Chapter 2: Blow Up**

The beaten soles of her trainers squeaked on the gleaming marble floor as Hiyori walked around the corridors. Hafuri had seemed colossal and rather intimidating when she had first set her eyes upon it. But, with the help of the manager, Kazuma-san, and her natural curiosity, it had only taken her a week to learn to find her way in the building.

The days spent at Hafuri were so incredibly active and full that Hiyori had hardly been conscious that three whole weeks had passed from the day she had first set foot in the glorious building. Hiyori was diligent in her training, there was rarely a day in which the girl did not have a litre of sweat oozing out of every pore on her body. She hardly ever complained, despite Yato's eccentric methods. She was assuring herself it was all worth it. While Yato was quite aloof and goofy most of the time, he was dotting in his training programme. He'd give out his instructions every day and Hiyori followed them to the very last word, no matter how many times words like "syrupy", "robust" or "pinkydawdle" were used.

She turned around the corridor, discreetly glancing into the half closed doors of the training room, where a selected bunch of Hafuris' elite students were training for competitions. Her heart jolted into her chest, sending adrenaline all over her body, making her fingers tingle. Her lips stretched into a sanguine smile and she quickened her pace and balled her hands into fists.

When she reached her destination, she stopped outside the wooden door with a small plastic tablet glued on the front, the word 'Manager' staring at her in bold, black letters. She took a deep breath, losing her cheeky grin as she knocked on the door twice.

"Come in!" said a bubbly female voice. That _did not sound like Kazuma-san at all._ Hiyori knitted her eyebrows, double-checking the door to make sure that she was indeed standing outside the right room When the tablet assured her that she _was_ in the right office, the girl opened the door and stepped into the neat, air-conditioned office. Her eyes fell upon a petite woman with pink, chin-length hair, curled locks falling in front of her face. She was sitting on top of the desk as she ruffled in hurry through some paper work.

"Hello, I am Hiyori Iki, I am looking for Kazuma-san," she indicated, receiving a sweet smile from the woman who straightened up to greet her.

"Kazuma-san is not here at the moment, dear. He is attending some business," she replied, the smile never leaving her lips. "I am Kofuku Ebisu, I teach the six-ten age group" she added. The woman dropped her stock of papers upon another pile, scattering the lower heap. "Maybe I can help you!" she offered.

"I am just here for formal application. My trial period has ended and I would like to register as a full-time member of Hafuri," she explained.

"That's great. Welcome to our little family!" Kofuku exclaimed, clapping her hands. "The application papers, they should be… Ah, found it!" she announced triumphantly, ripping the papers out of the desk and spilling some of the contents over the floor.

Hiyori swiftly bent down to collect them.

Kofuku settled beside her, watching her pen sliding across the signup sheet. "So, how do you like our place, Hiyori-san?"

"It's wonderful!" Hiyori signed the paper and switched to another sheet. "Everybody is really nice, and Kazuma-san himself made sure I got to know everything I sh- What's this?"

"That? It's the bill. You'll have to pay a certain amount of money to-"

"No, I mean, this is the price for group lessons," Hiyori pointed out. "I have a private coach, so I believe I should be paying more."

"Sure, my mistake!" Kofuku reached under the desk, but stopped midways. "But, the private tutoring folder was empty before. Hmmm… Kazu-chan did… Hiyori-san, who is your trainer?"

"Yato..." Hiyori remembered the informality of the other Hafuri members when talking about him, but decided against it in the last second, "Yato-sama."

"Oh? Yatty finally found someone who stuck with him for more than two weeks? Splendid!"

"Yatty?" Hiyori awkwardly pronounced the nickname before she finally processed the rest of Kofuku's words. "Wait…what do you mean, 'for more than two weeks'? I can't possibly be his only trainee" she mused, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes, you are indeed! No one else before you lasted through Yatty's training programme" the woman assured, her smile widening. "As far as I know, he listed you as a group participant, not a private student, which means he hopes you will stay here for some time. You must be a very reliable lady, Hiyorin!"

The girl looked at the trainer, dumbfounded. Sure, Yato wasn't exactly your everyday trainer. Sure, his training could be rather maddening and Hiyori had caught herself quite a fair amount of times reconsidering her decision of studying under him. But, he was the 'God of Calamity' for Heaven's sake! He ought to be famous among students!

Hiyori tried to look at Kofuku from a different angle. There was no reason the cheerful, pink-haired woman would lie about Yato's trainees. But, still...

"That is rather weird" she admitted. "I mean, Yato-sama is quite famous for his skills in the ring. That should have attracted lots of possible trainees. I see no reason for him to be _that_ unpopular!"

"You have a point, Hiyorin. But Yatty is a bit of a special case, too. You see," dropping her voice, Kofuku leaned forward oh the desk, "his weirdness aside, he also has quite a mysterious background, dear old Yatty. No one is certain where he came from, he just popped in here one day along with Kazuma-san and has been staying here ever since."

"'Staying' as in teaching."

"Well, he also lives in the attic of the courtyard dojo," Kofuku pointed out, receiving a bewildered look from Hiyori.

"He lives in the attic?! That cannot be possible! Doesn't he have a family? A home? A dog?" Hiyori exclaimed. It was hard for her to fathom the fact that the God of Calamity was a questionable, weird guy living in the attic of a gym.

"No one can tell for certain" Kofuku shrugged, not fazed at all compared to Hiyori's running thoughts. "Just let me tell you- you may hear some strange rumours surrounding Yatty and his past. Some of them are rather... _nasty_." An ironic grin grew on her face, her eyes scanning Hiyori's face for a reaction.

Nasty? What sort of nasty past could _Yato_ have? _No,_ she reminded herself. _Not just_ that _Yato._

"Oh, Hiyorin, I like you already!" the older woman shot forward and pinched stunned Hiyori's cheeks. "Don't get so gloomy! I'm just warning you about gossip, that is all! I'm sure you've found that out yourself, but Yatty-"

"Oi! Kofuku, come over here, kids are asking for you!" a sonorous voice echoed into the small office, interrupting Hiyori's train of thought.

"Coming right over, dear!" Kofuku loudly responded. "When you're done, just put it in that case over there titled "Unfinished" and I'll tell Kazu-chan to check it out. It has been a pleasure meeting you, miss Hiyori. Good luck with your training! Send Yatty my kisses!" she flashed another sunny smile before exiting the office, leaving behind a confused young girl.

A plethora of troubling thoughts accompanied Hiyori as she made her way to the training room. Who _was_ Yato? All this time, Hiyori had been so enchanted by his skills that she had hardly considered where did they even come from.

Then again, she could clearly remember - when she had typed his name in the web search, the results were simply a bunch of youtube videos of him in the ring. Not a single source on his history, on where he had been trained, on where he was born. It was as if the great 'God of Calamity' had just one day started existing and taking part in tournaments, working in Hafuri and, apparently, occupying its storage rooms in the process.

Now that she thought about it, Yato was surely one big mystery. Not only because of his puzzling lifestyle, but also because of his queer training. She had known no other trainer picking the approach Yato had, and she had met quite a fair amount of trainers. He spent most of their time making her do drills and basic training, yelling and chatting with her from the sidelines. Sometimes he'd jump into the ring himself and showed her a few tricks, but his motto seemed to be : "You'll get it." She always did, in the end, but... Her experience with Yato was unique, unpredictable but, without room for doubt, exhilarating. Her adrenaline levels hit red whenever she trained with him, trying to make the best out of anything he threw at her.

With a sceptical expression on her face, she opened the wide double doors, her eyes instantly landing on Yato.The young man was shirtless and covered in sweat, the fine muscles on his back flexing as he swiftly punched a dummy that rocked back and forth in lighting speed.

On a first glance, an onlooker could describe his punches as reckless, inconsistent and aggressive at the speed and force with which they hit the dummy that titled way further back than it was supposed to. But, taking a closer look, Hiyori could clearly see the impressive calculations that probably run through Yato's head. The speed did not trouble him whatsoever, his punches were dead accurate, landing on a specific spot on the dummy, never slowing down. If the dummy was a wrestler, Yato could easily deliver such punches on his opponent's ribs, breaking them, and the opponent would struggle to outrun the force and speed of Yato's mounted punches. Then, he could finish them off with a spinning back fist, not matter how big they were.

Precise. Yato was deadly precise.

"Hiyori! There you are!"

Hiyori was snapped out of her thoughts at the huffing tone.

"Yato! Sorry I am late, Kazuma-san asked me to stop by his office before I meet with you today. He told me we had to settle some paper work since my trial period is over."

He eyed her carefully.

"... I had to pay my acceptance fee and filled the forms, so it took some time."

A huge grin spread across Yato's face, his blue eyes gleaming at his trainee's words. "That's awesome, Hiyori! You know what, this calls for a celebration!" he clapped his hands, like a little kid waiting for his birthday cake.

"But, we have training," Hiyori argued.

"Don't worry, you have my permission to skip class today," he assured her with a mischievous wink. "Besides, your sensei…." He proudly pointed a finger at his chest. "…will treat you to dinner! How great is that?"

Hiyori wondered if she heard right. "Dinner? Now? You really don't have to!"

"Of course I have to!" he waved his hand in a careless manner. "We are going to have a delicious feast in your honour, and then dessert wherever you'd like. Maybe I can get the restaurant to write our names on top and maybe sing us a-"

"Th-that won't be necessary!"

"Tsk. You have no sense of class. How about you meet me outside Hafuri in an hour? I'm gonna to have to take a bath before stepping into the outer world."

Once again, her eyes fell on Yato's naked torso. Hiyori quickly lifted her eyes, hoping he hadn't realized what was she doing.

"Alright" she agreed. It was impossible to turn him down when he was so... keen on taking her out. She'll play along.

After precisely an hour, Hiyori was standing outside the Hafuri building, watching as the last of the students walked down the stairs, laughing and chatting between them. The girl had put on a simple outfit and gathered her hair up on a bun,. She was fairly certain that Yato would not take her to some fancy restaurant. It would be absurd if he did, she was only his trainee. Besides, Hiyori was already surprised enough - none of her trainers had offered to buy her dinner in the past because of ending her trial period. Yato acted as if she had brought him a medal instead of a membership registration. _Seems like Kofuku-san really didn't blow the whole thing out of proportions..._

The girl sat on the first step of the font stairs as she waited, listlessly checking her watch. Scrunching her nose, she realised he was ten minutes late. She released a breath and impatiently looked over her shoulder to the glass doors and the magnificent entrance above them.

Could Yato seriously live in Hafuri? Even if Kofuku was right about his misfortune with trainees, the whole idea seemed rather absurd. Sleeping in a public building didn't seem like something a successful man such as him should do. Not only it was nearly impossible not to have even one place he could stay, whether it was parents or a friend he could room with, it was even more questionable how the management had allowed him to stay in their attic.

"Sorry I am late!" Yato apologetically cried from the top of the stairs. Hiyori turned just in time to see Yato, running down the stairs, two or three steps at a time, almost losing his balance as he landed on the street next to where she was sitting.

"Am I late or _late_ late?"

Hiyori stood up and nodded at him. "I haven't been waiting for long," she lied, studying him in his casual clothing. His attire did not suggest that he had anything fancy in his mind, either. He wore an orange t-shirt, knee-length trousers and flip-flops, his chin length black hair held up in a loose, short ponytail by a rubber band.

"So about dinner, I know this place not too far away from here that makes the absolute _best_ ramen in the whole damn world."

"Ramen would be good," Hiyori agreed with a smile.

They walked down the street towards city centre, conversing about sparring techniques and wrestlers. Hiyori of course had not missed the opportunity to fawn over her favourite wrestler who had inspired her into sparring, Tono. The girl went on and on about the wrestler's amazing moves and kicks, curling one hand into fist and punching her open palm to emphasize Tono's butt kicking skills.

"Tono is definitely one of the greatest wrestlers ever! He's just so inspirational and his spin kick is the best there is!" she passionately commented.

"Tono is indeed good. But…" an arrogant smile crossed Yato's features. "…I am sure he's got nothing on me! I… Yato the Great, am the best wrestler there is!" he announced, chest puffing out in pride.

Hiyori laughed at his antics. "Ridiculous is what you are."

"Oh, is that so?" he challenged and they both went on arguing who would win in the ring.

The evening was going way more smoothly than Hiyori had expected it. Walking next to Yato, watching him make ridiculous claims, it made it hard to believe that the guy was a notorious wrestler. The God of Calamity she had pictured in her head was a man with an immediate aura of authority, intimidating and powerful. Yato just seemed like an ordinary guy, goofy even and, by the looks of him, he must've been only a couple of years older than her.

The thoughts that had tormented her for the whole day surfaced again, her expression thoughtful and severe as she discreetly glanced towards the young man. His hands were casually shoved into his pockets, an easy smile on his face as he whistled a cheery tune.

"Yato, can I ask you something?" she quietly asked.

"Sure thing!"

"I-is it true that you live in Hafuri's attic?"

Yato paused his whistling, but the question did not seem to bother him much. "It's only temporary. I have had some family issues and I was left with no place to stay, so Kazuma and his rabid master offered me to stay in Hafuri for some time, since I am also a trainer."

"I see." _Family trouble, huh._ Probably nothing like… no, she wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable. She'll let it go. "I am sorry for prying!" Hiyori quickly added.

"Ah, don't worry about it. It's no big deal," he offered a smile and then pointed at a small shop a street away. "We are almost there! I hope you had a good life because the chiefs in this place will make sure you soon explode from overeating."

"Sure," Hiyori let out a soft sigh, glad that there was no tension created. His blabbery mouth was useful at times, too.

They were just about to enter the small shop when Hiyori heard a loud curse coming from the small alley next to the building. Dread filling her stomach, she took a few steps to the corner. The girl's eyes fell upon a group of three boys standing before a smaller one, pushing him against his chest.

"Say that again, you runt," one of the boys growled. "I dare you to move that shit-eating tongue of yours just _one_ more time."

The small boy looked strangely familiar. His blonde hair, his striking honey-coloured eyes and refined facial features, violated by bad bruises. His mouth was crooked in a grin, as if preparing to speak.

Hiyori gasped in realization.

"Hey you!" she cried, stomping towards the teenagers. "Leave him alone" she warned, glaring them down. All three boys were significantly taller and beefier than the blond one. And three against one at that, how very cowardly.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves, picking on someone like that."

"Why don't you go mind your own business?" the boy who had pushed the blonde spat at Hiyori. His eyes were hardly visible beneath the shadow of his cap.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Yato stood by Hiyori's side, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and serious. His blue eyes dangerously gleamed as they landed on the beaten kid. "You should pick on someone your own size, you bunch of pissbabies. Would _you_ like to have your face adorned the same way you do for others?"

"Yeah, would you?" the blond croaked almost too quietly.

"Back the _fuck_ off, both of you" another boy hissed, his pals nodding along. "And the kid's batshit crazy. We haven't done a thing to him."

"You should be the one walking away" Yato replied in an eerie yet perilous tone. "Three large guys like you confronting a small guy like him isn't the best of sight," a warning lingered in his tone, a tone that the teenagers picked on. Hiyori stared at Yato, awe-struck, he was giving off such an intimidating aura, it made her shiver. The three boys seemed to have sensed it, too because after muttering a colourful series of curses they started walking away, leaving only Hiyori, Yato and the small boy in the alley.

The two glanced at the boy now crumpled by the wall.

"What the _hell_ do you two think you're doing?" the boy snapped in a hoarse voice, frowning at Hiyori and Yato. He was holding his ribs, a wince of pain crossing his features as he took a step closer to them. His pallid face was lit under a street lamp, showing a series of black, purple and green bruises on his face, collarbone and what was visible of his limbs. An angry, red scar occupied the biggest space of his right arm, looking as if someone had whipped him.

"You needed help!" Hiyori cried, bewildered at how beaten the boy was. "You are hurt! Isn't it painful? What were you doing here, in the dark, alone? Did they force you to come here?"

"I am completely fine," he complained back, pressing his hand even harder to his ribcage.

"You need to be taken to the hospital," Yato cut in, his voice curt, leaving no room for argument.

 _Hospital._

"I will call my parents, they'll take me. Just _leave_ already. Please."

She gathered her thoughts. No, there was no way she would leave him. The kid was probably hardly an adolescent- if the rest of the guys decided to seek him out again, he wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop them., Besides, they were in a completely different part of the town. It should be fine.

"There's a hospital is just around the corner. We can call them when we get there," Hiyori suggested.

"Leave me alone," he insisted. He looked ready to cut more, but he doubled over and retched.

Hiyori jumped back. "Yato! This is _bad_ , we have to-"

"We are not leaving you here" Yato approached the boy, gently taking his arm and wrapping it over his neck. The boy groaned in pain.

"Hold on to me, we'll get you fixed in no time."

The blond bit his already bruised lip, but argued no more with them.

They managed to reach the hospital just in time when the boy turned as white as a ghost and started trembling with pain in Yato's arms. Hiyori had noticed in horror that there were a few drops of blood on his tatty t-shirt, discreetly hidden by his jacket. Once they stepped foot into the hospital, they were greeted by a nurse who immediately had the poor boy laying in one of the emergency rooms for examination.

Hiyori and Yato were left in the reception, surrounded by families who awaited news and outdated magazines. After filling out the admittance form and being left with nothing to divert her attention, Hiyori couldn't sit still; she was silently tapping her foot on the white floor with anticipation, then sitting up and pacing a few circles around the room. Her eyes constantly drifting towards Yato who was leaning against the white wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, patiently waiting for the nurse to come out of the room, blue eyes fixed on the door. Hiyori was stunned at his calm posture, when her own brain felt skittish and scratchy.

Finally, after what seemed like ten hours (it was truly just ten minutes) the nurse walked out of the room.

"He is doing fine" The nurse assured them, noticing Hiyori's and Yato's worried expressions. "He seems to have been beaten pretty bad, though. He had lots of bruises and a few cuts. Though, the worst is a couple of broken ribs. We're going to keep him for the night and make sure he's okay. Now, if you don't mind me asking, what is your relation with him?"

"None" Yato was the first to reply. "We found him like that and offered to take him to the hospital."

"I see, that was very kind of you" the nurse mused. "His parents are currently being contacted and he was able to explain what happened, so you needn't worry any longer. I have to go see to other patients, but would you like to see him before leaving?"

"Yes, we'd very much like to!" Hiyori breathed. She still had a few answers to get out of the boy, and was glad he was doing fine enough for her to be able to try it.

They watched as the nurse walked away before entering the room where the boy was held.

He was laid on a bed, covered in white sheets, his cut cleaned of blood and his torso naked and wrapped in bandages. He looked really small and delicate In the hospital bed, yet his eyes were steady and cold when they laid upon Hiyori and Yato.

"Hi again, b… May I ask you what your name is?" Hiyori asked, trying to be as friendly and warm as possible. Sure, the kid _wasn't_ very grateful or warm, but he was just a kid. God knows what he had been through to have earned all those bruises. His frail body and those big eyes of his had forced Hiyori's protective side to make an appearance, even though she didn't even know his name.

"Yukine" he quietly replied, not making eye-contact.

"I am glad to see that you look better, Yukine-kun" Hiyori sincerely indicated. "My name is Hiyori Iki. This is Yato. We're-"

"Look, my parents will be here in a few" Yukine mumbled. "So you can leave. I am fine."

Hiyori opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Yato cut her unspoken words off.

"As you wish, but first…" Yato started, reaching for something into his trousers' pocket. He fished out a small white card. Hiyori noticed the word 'Hafuri' written on it as Yato handed it over to Yukine.

"I am a sparring trainer; those are my contact details. If you'd like, I could give you lessons. If needed, I can make them free - you seem to need them enough" he pointed out. "You can come by whenever you want. Just show this at the reception and they'll let you know what to do."

Yukine didn't reply but he didn't throw the card away, either. He stared at the black letters and numbers, reading them carefully. Hiyori took that as a good sign, and it seemed, that so did Yato.

"I hope to see you soon, then." Yato added, offering a grim smile.

"Get better soon, Yukine-kun," Hiyori genuinely wished that Yukine would be out of the hospital soon. She gave the boy one last glance before walking out of the room, Yato's shadow at her heels.

She too hoped it wouldn't be the last time they saw the boy.


	3. Pins and Needles

Chapter 3: Pins and Needles

"Feel free to make yourself at home," Hiyori encouraged, shrugging off her coat and dangling the keys on a hook next to the door.

"Oh... okay," Yama started taking off her shoes, nervously glancing around the small apartment. It was possible to see almost all of the residence just from standing at the entrance- a tatami room with a TV and a table, doors that led to a bathroom, a hall with a small kitchen.

"I know it's not much. Shall I prepare tea?"

"Sounds good. Want some help?" But Yama already seated herself at the tiny table.

"No, thank you. I don't have enough tea to risk your culinary skills. Just relax and I'll be done in a blink."

Her friend flexed her legs, setting her chin on her hands. "It's too early to work," she yawned. "I've been dying to ask you, what possessed you to move this far out anyway? Emergency or no emergency, Ami-chan couldn't come with me because she wouldn't have time to arrive at her nephew's birthday party otherwise. Which isn't until, like, 1."

Hiyori's hands fumbled with a bag of tea leaves. "I know. That's why I asked you to come _today_."

"Ooh?" Yama's eyes widened a bit. "Why exactly is that?"

Hiyori kept her arms busy with pouring water into a teapot. "Well... you know how Ami-chan is with... secrets and family and responsibility..."

" _Secrets_ ," Yama smiled wickedly. "You have some juicy gossip you wanna confess, Hiyori-chan? Come, come, sit down."

"Well," Hiyori lowered herself next to the excited girl. "Okay, first, do you remember Yato?"

Yama's delight immediately turned down a notch. Hiyori tried not to feel too hurt when she rolled her eyes and said, "I, to be able to forget the guy you've been stalking for the last three months? Impossible."

"Excuse me, it is not stalking; it's called _researching_ ," her face felt warm.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetie. Yeah, I remember."

"And you know how I said I was going to take a year off to travel?"

"And you're staying in town to get some _very_ unspecific last-minute business done before departing next week? Yeah, I remember."

 _Here goes._ "Well..." Hiyori's eyes darted to the stove. It was hard to finally get the words out loud. "It's not all true. I _am_ planning to stay here for an undetermined amount of time, but not for that reason. The real reason is... him. I've found him. Yato-sama. And he's accepted my offer."

Yama produced a high-pitched scream and jolted on her feet, startling the other girl to the floor. " _Hiyori_ ," she breathed, "you actually eloped with a hot MMA warrior-" she spun, taking in the room again, gears in her blonde head turning visibly. "Omigod, now it ALL makes sense! I can't _beli_ -"

"No!" Hiyori thrust an arm towards the blabbing girl, utterly mortified. "No way! No! That is not what is happening here! I got him to agree to train me!"

Yama stopped her frenzied squealing. "Too bad," she sighed in disappointment, "I thought you've finally found some spunk in that muscular body of yours. Entered your rebellious phase. That kind of cool things."

Hiyori's face was red to the ears. "Sorry."

"Ahh, never mind. You said you got him to train you? Why? I thought you loved your club."

"I did," insisted Hiyori, "but we all knew it wouldn't be able to get me where I wanted to go. So I thought... it would be for the best to find someone who would."

"Where you wanted to go..." Yama's posture hardened. "Hiyori-chan, you don't mean-"

The other girl stayed silent, staring at her hands folded in her lap.

" _Hiyori_!" Yama jumped up again, a horrified expression on her face. "Hiyori..." she repeated, this time more awestruck. And then, she twisted in laughter. "You _did_ become a little rebel, then! You are seriously pursuing that goal of becoming an ultimate champion!"

Her laughter was a bit deranged but expected and thus welcome by Hiyori's anxiety. "I don't know about the _ultimate_ part. I just wanted to- I wanted an opportunity to win a tournament or two. Or three."

"Or four," Yama continued, "or maybe ten. How did Iki-san react? Did she faint?"

"No. She didn't. Because she doesn't know."

Yama blinked. Then, she cried, "That is so cruel of you! Hiyori, you? You, the little miss Med School? The top student? I know you could do it, but... _you_?"

 _She wasn't laughing at my intention, but my means_. A wave of fondness washed over her.

"And I guess it explains this flat too. You always had a taste for fanciness, so I knew something smelled fishy when I saw those khaki walls."

Her parents offered to provide funds for this year, but she knew spending a larger amount of money every month on a more suitable living space would seem suspicious. "Don't remind me."

"If you want, I could stop by your house tomorrow and grab a pillowcase or two. I meant to have a chat with your mom anyway."

Phantom ants crawled over Hiyori's skin.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Hiyori-chan, " sang Yama, "my lips are sealed, and you hold the key. I wanted to ask for an appropriate place where I can go for a fancy dress fitting. I have a special dinner coming up, and I absolutely _have_ to be armed to the teeth."

Hiyori's shoulders relaxed. "Thank you. And," she added in a small voice, "a pillow would be nice." She couldn't take anything of the sort when she was packing. She didn't have a bed here, but she could still use something to brighten her homesickness a bit.

"So, now that we got all the doubt from the way," Yama sat across the table and rested her elbows on the table, folding her hands under her chin. "How is he? Is he everything you've hoped for?"

 _That_ was why Hiyori had the desperate need to talk to somebody. What made her send that invitation in the first place. "I don't know," she confessed, breathing out. "I'm not sure if this is what I wanted."

"What? Is he not a ' majestic strike of lightning'? A 'wonderfully adapting, powerful gust of wind'?"

Blood rushed to Hiyori's face upon remembering her rants. "I don't know. I mean, he _is_ , when he's fighting, but out of the ring... He's weird. Bubbly. Talks like a hooligan. He makes me do ridiculous rookie drills and acts like it's something incredibly important. Do you know it took me _days_ to move from a basic starting pose lesson? And I was there for hours at a time."

"Maybe the God of Calamity is an intimidation method he uses only on his opponents?"

"That's the thing," Hiyori threw her arms into the air, exasperated, "last night we caught some older kids bullying someone. He was hurt, so we took him to the hospital. And Yato- he completely turned around. I was pretty scared when I saw what happened to the boy, but he was composed and focused. Well, at first he was pretty mad, but once we managed to scare them off... It was as if he was an entirely different person. He gave off that responsible aura, confident. Quiet, didn't speak much. And his voice- his voice became so different, serious, and deeper somehow, and-"

She stopped talking. Remembering the unexpected change made her shudder from head to toe.

Yama was the one to interrupt the silence. "So, based on this one event, you're thinking of changing your entire attitude?"

"Well, it's not just one," Hiyori professed. "Sometimes during class, he says some things that sound really... wise? And he always takes me seriously. He can get skeptic, but that's because his students give up quickly. Nothing else. He recognizes the effort, no matter where-where it comes from."

Yama's head cocked. She understood what Hiyori meant.

"But-but I'm not sure it's enough, you know?" Hiyori suddenly felt rushed, like she needed to force all of the words from the last few weeks up her throat, "He becomes what I want, then makes me doubt it again. Doubt my choice. I have one chance at doing this- I can't pretend I'm traveling forever. I can't lie forever. I don't want to lie- I want Mother and Father to see- to see what I can do. I want them to trust me. I want to show them so they can understand how serious I am. I can finish school _and_ still work on my training. I could last year, and it was _not_ unprofessional, I made it work, so why- I _need_ them to understand, and I'm afraid I'm placing my hopes on a wrong horse, and I'd get stuck for the rest of my life because of it," she blurted out.

Yama stayed silent, observing Hiyori's huffing form. She was sure her eyes showed the first signs of tears. She did nothing to stop them.

"What exactly," Yama started carefully, "makes you the most desperate about this situation?"

Hiyori let out a dry chuckle. "During our introductory meeting, he tried to answer too fast and almost choked on a mint."

"Hah, happened to me too. It never happened to you?"

"..."

"Look, what I'm trying to say is," she reached for Hiyori's hands over the table and shook them gently, "sometimes you pester your parents to buy you concert tickets for your birthday. The terribly expensive, VIP ones you'd never get on an average day. And they finally say yes, and you get all excited and can't wait until your birthday to see them. And on you birthday you open the package, and it turns out your parents misheard you and got you tickets for some lame band that doesn't even use real drums. Like that stupid violin thing Ami-chan likes. The kind that makes you want to lay on the floor and cry. Who would do that to themselves, right? Well, anyway, you choose to go because, duh, VIP tickets, it should at least be better than staying at home crying because your parents also used a shady site that doesn't do refunds. And you're sitting there, and it starts, and you realize the performance is perfect. The lights are beautiful. Hologram dancers blink in time with the music, and it gets that bass feeling. The crowd is great at improv and nice, and there's an organized choreography. So you enjoy yourself and exit the hall thinking, _Wow, this was awesome. I completely forgot about how stupid the music was. I am glad I went._ So, to bring this unnecessarily long metaphor to an end, so I don't run out of the things to say," Yama grinned, "there are all kinds of stuff trapped inside everything. A concert. A guy. I'm sure you had already figured it out yourself some time ago, but let me say it: Maybe the stinking music is worth enduring after all."

Hiyori smiled through the tears. "That was very wise."

"Yeah, I wonder why? Usually, you're the one with good advice."

"Maybe... you have more experience with men, maybe that's why?"

"... let's pretend I did not spend my high school sending _you_ to ask my crushes for contact info and say it's true."

Hiyori laughed out loud. She felt like a tower of bricks was lifted off her back. "Thank you so much, Yama-chan. I am glad I have such a good friend. This helped me a lot."

"Aw, come here. I'm glad I have such an adorable friend, too." Her friend stretched herself over the table and pulled Hiyori in a hug.

"Okay, now that you're feeling better, I think it's time to point out your teapot has been screaming bloody murder for a few hours. Seriously, I'm getting you an electric one as soon as I'm out of this cottage."

The silent, steady purr of the engine did nothing for a headache that was starting to blossom behind his brow. The bright spring light shooting at him through the windows didn't help, either. Maybe he should've asked for more painkillers and saved some for later. They didn't check his pockets on the sign-out. It would've been so easy.

He sighed. He'll have to make due.

"Hey. You okay back there?"

He bit his tongue. "Yeah. I'm all right."

"Yukine."

He watched as the rearview mirror adjusted so his father's green gaze could catch his brown one in it.

"Tell me what's wrong."

That silent, concerned voice picked at his brain, practically _inviting_ him to burst out laughing.

"My head hurts a bit. Nothing too bad."

He heard the man releasing a breath. "Oh. That. Well, we should have some meds back at home. If not, I'll get some at the hospital tonight. Could you wait until my shift ends?"

He slumped in the seat. _No._ "Sure, whatever."

"When we get home, I'll make this wonder tea Otai-san has been telling me about. I guess this is a great chance to try it out, heh? Good thing I opened your window last night, the room should be nice and chilly by now. I'm not sure about that new tree number 4 has planted in the backyard, though- I think it's what's been giving us allergies all this time…"

Yukine watched the fingers drumming along the black leather of the steering wheel.

"Well, nothing could be worse than that cat from last summer, right?" his father laughed. "That time I swallowed that furball was the closest I've ever gotten to holding Death's hand. Your nose was red for ages afterward, too! Or maybe that time when..."

Automatically, he reached for his now red nose. He felt a pang of pain as soon as his fingers touched the nostril. Nothing he didn't feel tons of times before. He didn't remove the hand.

What the hell happened last night? It still felt too unreal. Everything was going along fine until that stupid girl showed up. And then it all ended up a travesty when the man appeared and started his intimidation show, only to practically _wee_ p at the sight of his bruises.

Yukine chuckled. Then, he remembered the piece of paper in his pocket.

He was ashamed to admit it, but at the moment the guy has given it to him, he was tempted to tell him he was ready right the, right then. But one look at the logo made him reconsider- of _course_ he knew what _Hafuri_ was. He spent quite a number of last winter's evenings strolling around the lobby and drinking hot chocolate - enough evenings to figure out what kind of a club it was.

A noble, honorable, traditional place filled basement-to-attic with success and awards.

Speaking of noble… last night was the only time he got caught. And it was by two people he never met before in his life. What kind of reckless, brainless drive made a girl in a pink coat jump headfirst into a back-alley brawl? _The guy is a martial artist, stupid,_ his brain chided. _They had nothing to be afraid of._

He was pulled back to reality by the sudden silence that filled the car.

That wasn't nice.

"Yukine..."

The hurt in the man's voice was impossible to shut off.

"I am so sorry."

 _No,_ I'm _sorry._ He wanted to say it.

"I've… I've been careless. I didn't notice… I couldn't see."

He wanted to.

"And what makes it worse, I have all the means to could have prevented it," a dry, humorless laugh. "I have all the means, and yet I wasn't able to..."

He tried to steady his hands. With a pang of regret, he realized they were leaving a sweat stain on the black leather seat.

"I am so sorry, Yukine. Please, understand me. You are such a mature kid, you know? I know we can prevent this kind of stuff in the future. We have to."

 _Nothing to be afraid of, huh…_

The card felt too heavy in his pocket.

 _"Heyy, Hiyorin, are you busy? I need a bit of help, you see..."_

Hiyori kept rewinding those words over and over again in her mind, trying to keep her thoughts clear of the pain that was steadily spreading across her lower back. But the floor of the built-in wardrobe which she was currently using as her sanctuary was littered with books and folders that were terribly awkward to sit on.

"Ahhh," she dared to breathe out. "What a mess."

Earlier today, Kofuku-san asked her to deliver some files to the main office. She reminded her it was the suite behind the doors leading out of the room in which the two met. " _I wouldn't suggest you to go in, though. Just ask for Kazu-chan and he'll know where to with these!_ " Kofuku-san reassured her.

But what the bubbly woman forgot to mention was, which of the many doors that followed in the hallway behind the first entrance was she supposed to take. So Hiyori tried a few: behind the closest one, archives. Behind the next one, more archives.

Further down the hallway, there was a bigger set of doors, so she supposed she'd find someone who could help her there. She knocked and entered, but her excuse got caught halfway in her throat when she saw where she found herself.

It looked like the main office she was looking for, but empty. Three desks positioned in a triangle were visible at the far end of the room, matching lamps on the surface covered in paperwork. Two completely transparent walls -the big windows visible from the main stairway outside- illuminated a large board plastered with...

Was that a *research*? It looked like something out of police movies, photos, lists, papers ripped out of notebooks and newspaper cutouts all connected by strings, which all ended in one or the other dots of a large-scale map of Tokyo.

Stunned, Hiyori set the contents from her arms on a nearby cupboard. Nearing the map, she noticed strings were different colors, but she couldn't distinguish a logical pattern. In one corner were pinned headshots of people she didn't recognize. At least she thought so until her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue. Yato's photo was adorned with sharpie-drawn mustache and horns. _What in the world..._

Hiyori's fingers found a sheet of paper taped the closest to the map. It was a front page of a newspaper from five years ago, informing the world of a trial freeing the suspect in the murder of a local schoolgirl T. K., closing the case due to the lack of other proofs and leads.

" _We apologize to the friends and family of the deceased,_ " the article quoted the detective responsible for the case, " _but continuing spending our time and resources, in this case, would be like beating a dead horse. Nevertheless, our thoughts and hearts are with them during these times of tragedy._ "

Hiyori shook her head. What kind of an officer makes a statement such as this in public? It was too cruel- as if the poor parents and friends of the unfortunate girl haven't heard enough about their precious person's murderer remaining unknown... Now their hope was called a dead animal.

What kind of things could happen to people… Fear of violence was the reason her father decided to enroll her six-year-old daughter in a karate class. _"You'll learn how to protect yourself, which is a skill every young lady should possess nowadays!"_ her mother explained. It was supposed to last until elementary school graduation, then middle school graduation. But when fifteen-year-old Hiyori stayed an hour later in her dojo and caught the MMA class that was scheduled after her training, it became apparent it was love at first swing.

It wasn't a "vile, violent, barbaric" sport as her mother suggested. If you wanted to excel, it took discipline in both mind and body. It took concentration and a peaceful state of mind.

Bloodlust such as in the case pinned in front of her face had absolutely nothing to do with sport.

" _... and it's not sport!_ "

Puzzled, Hiyori wondered if those were her own thoughts voiced out loud. But when they continued with a " _Let me get my keys,_ " she flung herself as far as possible from the board.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Kofuku-san warned her. Where to now? The window? No, how could she get down from there?

Maybe she should stay in the room and apologize. Her face went hot just by thinking about it. No, she turned in her papers yesterday, she couldn't possibly be caught snooping around somebody's important, crime-related research! And murder at that!

"Huh? It wasn't locked?"

Desperate, she flung herself into the closet closest to the door.

"I swear that's the case more often that not, Veena."

Hiyori knew that voice! It was Kazuma-san! He'd understand, for sure! Elated, she reached for the handle, when-

"What is this?"

A click of heels quickly crossed the room.

"... Kazuma, was it you touching the board?"

"Me? No. I wouldn't get near it."

Well, _now_ she wasn't getting out for sure.

A female sigh sounded through the wood. "Kazuma..."

"You know my opinion on this, Bishamon-sama. But I still wouldn't dream to try and disrupt-"

 _Bishamon-sama?!_ As in, the...

"Veena," the woman sliced. "And _I_ wouldn't dream to accuse you of trying to disrupt it. I only wish..."

And she was insisting on him calling her by another name, too. The two must've been close, Hiyori figured. But imagining skinny Kazuma-san speaking this strictly to the famous Hafuri trainer and president Bishamon-san was a bit unbelievable.

"Veena," Kazuma-san corrected himself, but his tone remained the same. "I've said it dozens of times before; I'll say it again. It is not healthy for you. Spending all of your free time playing this game of cat and mouse with a person who disappeared off the face of the Earth is taking a toll on you."

"And I've told you _hundreds_ of times," a sound like somebody sitting hard in a chair echoed through the air, "I am not straining myself too hard. It's completely manageable. It's worth every second of my time. Did you know I talked to Tama-chan's mother yesterday? She calls in every week asking if there's news. Every week. In all these years, she never gave up. So how could I? I owe that much to both her and her daughter..."

The woman's strong voice drifted off.

Hiyori felt like a voyeur. 

"Veena," Kazuma interrupted the silence. His tone became incredibly soft. "Nobody ever mentioned giving up. I feel the same way about the case. I'm worried about your well being. And it's not just me- Mineha and Kofuku cornered me yesterday and forced me to promise I'd do something about those eyebags you've been sporting for the last few weeks. Your class stopped by my office and asked me if you were sick and if you needed some time off. We're all worried."

And from that point, she couldn't hear anything more, so she crouched lower on her uncomfortable would-be seat and muttered: "Aaah, what a mess."

Hiyori threw her face into her hands. She shouldn't have heard this. She barely knew him, and never met her in her life! And here they were, talking in such a manner... He _was_ pretty close to Bishamon-san, wasn't he? 

_Wait a moment._

She opened her eyes through her fingers.

 _Close to her…_

She was confident he joined her by the desk. His voice was silent enough to disappear in whispers now. And if she remembered correctly, the desks should be at the other side of the room... neither of them with a clear look of the door.

Mustering up all of her courage, Hiyori peeked out of the wardrobe.

She was right. The two were facing the window, Kazuma-san standing over a pile of blonde hair tossed over the headrest of the chair. The woman was partly lying down, her head invisible, and thus incapable of turning around. Perfect.

After carefully taking off her sneakers, Hiyori dashed straight through the still-open door. She didn't stop until she found herself on top of the stairs, her heart racing and mind buzzing. Just then, a head of pink curls jumped in front of her.

"Hey, Hiyorin! Did you manage to get the papers to Kazu-chan?"

"…"

Her head was already full enough as it was.

 **A/N**

 **Hello! This is the first time I didn't forget to add this note into the doc. FF is confusing for a rookie such as me.**

 **Anyway, I wanted to say, thank you for reading this fic. I send love to the guys that faved, followed and reviewed. It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.**

 **See you next time!**

 **-Jo**


	4. IgnoranceBliss

**Ignorance = Bliss**

"What… are you two..."

Hiyori jumped to her feet and away from her trainer, glad to have an excuse to do so. "Yukine-kun! What a nice surprise! How are your bruises doing?"

Yukine remained in his spot at the gym 5 doorway. One hand was idly rested on the handle, a school bag dangling from his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, this? This is… eh... "

"It's a new technique I've thought of last night!" Yato called from the floor. "Every time Hiyori earns herself a hit, she also earns five minutes of therapeutic cat videos to heal her mind and body!"

He raised his phone screen, even though the boy was on the other side of the room. He swung himself on one arm and leaned back in the hallway, double checking the sign on the door. Hiyori wanted to cover her face is shame.

"Hiyori..." Yukine's eyes darted to her face, slowly drifting down to her body dressed in training pants and a sports bra. His eyes widened. "You're his co-worker? I didn't think somebody like you would-"

Hiyori clenched her teeth. "No. but I _am_ his trainee, Yukine-kun." 

"She's great. She even agreed to represent me in this tournament coming up!"

Yukine's cheeks tinted pink at the icy silence that settled over the room after that. However, Yato didn't seem to have successfully read the mood and continued: "So, kid, you ready to learn how to survive?"

Whether the boy they saved that night some time ago would show up or not had been an unspoken, ever-present question the last few days. Yato hadn't mentioned anything, but she saw him stealing glances through the windows whenever he thought Hiyori wasn't looking. He had invited her to dinner almost every night, carefully scanning every street they passed on their way to whichever restaurant they chose for the night. He had obviously been very concerned for the boy- more than he was willing to let out, slipping back into his usual pattern.

Yukine glanced at Hiyori's cheek again- specifically, on the red mark that would probably soon turn purple , depending on how unlucky she was.

"She swung a bit too recklessly at the dummy. It punched her right back," Yato explained.

Yukine's fists unclenched. _He was ready to leave,_ Hiyori realized. Well, if the boy was bullied on a regular basis, a sign that this could be a place he'd get even more injured was probably an unappealing notice.

But there was no reason to worry. Another novelty Yato had introduced into her training programme was the absence of sparring lessons for the moment. And even after…

Yukine stepped into the hall and dropped his school bag next to Hiyori's things on the floor. He was wearing his school PE clothes underneath his uniform, obviously prepared to participate and not merely observe. "Should I wait until you two are done?" he nonchalantly asked.

"Well, as I was saying," Yato clapped his hands once, "Hiyori here is currently working on her punches. We need to make them more precise-she's a bit too passionate about swinging her fists around. Nothing like her footwork, in any case. Her kicks are something special. You come here and practise a bit with her until she's done. Not that you'll be able to do it right, but getting you to build up some muscle on those toothpick arms won't hurt."

Yukine furrowed his brow, a scowl crossing his pale face. "I thought we're doing combat practice here."

Yato kept his palms together, fingers pointed at the boy. "Toothpick arms."

"I didn't come here to get insulted by some old geezer," Yukine hissed, his ears tinted red.

The man gasped. "I am not _that_ old! Maybe I'm not a pissy teen anymore, but I'm still at the peak of my youth! And willing to teach you _for free_ , so I suggest you shut your runny mouth and do as I say from now on."

Yukine begun to say something and Hiyori decided it was time to intrude into their exchange. "It's okay, Yukine-kun. He doesn't mean it like that. Just join us and see if our regime is working for you."

The boy shot her a stabbing look, but let out a long breath. Now that the purple and black skin wasn't present to divert the attention away from his eyes, she noticed they were rather pretty- a strange shade of orange-brown she had never seen before. "Fine. But I'm not letting you treat me like a charity case. I can pay and so I will pay."

Yato's jaw clenched. "Huh. Are you sure that would be a wise move?"

"What? Do you want the money or not? Tell me how much it will cost me and you'll get it."

A strange shadow rested over the man's face. This confused Hiyori- shouldn't Yato wish for more official students in his class? Why would he prefer to stay unpaid if there was a chance to get another trainee, and one who offered to pay any price he was asked?

"Any sum?"

"Is your hearing gone already too? Yes!"

"Then… five yen."

"Come again?" Yukine and Hiyori blurted out in unison.

"And you have the balls to mock the way _my_ ears age. I'm asking for five yen per hour."

"That..." the boy's voice quivered,"... that's just..."

 _Too cheap!_

"It's my price. Take it or leave it, kid."

Yato crossed his arms across his chest, his face blank and unmoving. Once again, Hiyori wondered what was going on into that midnight-colored head of his.

He could've at least asked for the amount listed under the group participation fee.

~*~

Hiyori dangled her feet off the side of the cage, leaning over the fence for support. Her heart was racing, pumping adrenaline into every part of her sweat-drenched body. Her breath was coming in puffs.

Yukine was sprawled next to her, his blonde head upside-down over edge of the podium. If she was exhausted, he was on the verge of passing out, his glossy skin speckled with red. "I'm going to barf."

"You won't," Hiyori huffed, "just go and get some water on your head. You'll be okay."

"I'm going to die."

"It'll go away."

"I'm going to die - and nobody but you two will - be responsible for it."

 _It's not like we forced you to do anything,_ Hiyori pointed out wordlessly. Yato offered Yukine to take a break at least twenty times during the past two hours, and he ignored fifteen of them.

"Where is your towel? You should at least wipe off some of the sweat, if it's such a problem."

"Didn't- bring one."

"Then, take your shirt off and use that."

" _No- fucking way._ "

Hiyori was taken aback by his fiery reply. Even though it was hard to say because of his already burning face, there seemed to appear some traces of embarrassment, too. Maybe such a suggestion was too much for a teenage boy who never attended a martial arts class before.

"How can you-" he gagged. "Fuck- how can you stand this? I feel like - like my chest is going to - snap into two."

Hiyori searched her head for an appropriate answer. "I actually like it," she decided on telling the truth.

"... Sorry, I think my brain is suffering - from oxygen loss. Did you just say - you _liked_ feeling like spaghetti coated in three layers of shit?"

"I do. Being this stinky and feeling weak means I did something good. I went another mile today. Tomorrow I'll be able to go even further. I've accomplished something," she explained. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she liked talking about it, too. Especially to children who only started their first drills- motivation and reminder that it was all worth it was important to hear, too.

"Well,doesn't make _me_ feel very successful. I'm still no - closer to learning anything about protecting - myself. What is he - even doing?" Yukine raised his hands over his body, as if thinking about Yato's comments about them.

"I'm no expert in the field," Hiyori started slowly, "but I think Yato-sama is trying to teach you something with this. You'll just need to give him time to show you what he meant."

"Like what?" 

If she knew the answer to that question, then her thoughts wouldn't be returning to Yato's photo pinned to the same board as an article with the word "murder" in its title.

The meeting following her accidental discovery was a real torture. She couldn't look at her trainer without a whole ton of questions bubbling inside her throat, together with something that resembled…

For the first time since she saw his ruthless accuracy in the ring in person, Hiyori thought she might be afraid of the God of Calamity.

But as soon as the concept surfaced and started gaining shape, it was shot down by the rational portion of her train of thought. If Bishamon-sama really was considering Yato a suspect in the murder of a person close to her heart, there would be no chance she would have let him anywhere near the students of her studio. And Hiyori couldn't imagine her childish trainer robbing a young, innocent person of her life.

 _You couldn't believe he was the God of Calamity, either._

But suspecting somebody of such a heinous crime is completely different than finding him too noisy.

Besides, there was no proof his presence on the board was implying anything that ominous. Maybe he was tied to the case in some other way. Maybe he wasn't even there permanently- judging by the mocking drawings on the photo, Bishamon might have been using it as a dart target or something. Her possible dislike of the man was another thing worrying Hiyori- why give him the job? Why let him _live_ under her roof? Maybe it wasn't even hers- there were three desks in the office…

 _Too many 'maybe's,_ she reminded herself. _No use giving yourself a headache over such a hopeless case._

At that moment Hiyori realized Yukine was still waiting for her to reply.

"Uh… I'm sure you'll find out eventually."

Yukine grunted: "And what am I supposed to do until 'eventually' comes?"

 _What were you doing until Yato gave you that card?_

Suddenly, the boy's almost unnoticeable traces of violence seemed as bad as they had been the night they scared her in that dark alley.

She grabbed the fence and pulled herself upright. "Come on."

Yukine eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

"Come over here, I'll show you a simple trick."

"Look, I barely have the energy to stay awake right now."

"It won't take long. It's nothing specific, just a few pointers," she bent down and patted his sneakers. "Come on, Yukine-kun! I know you will be great!"

"Aaarghhhhhhh." Despite all the groaning and whining, he managed to steady himself on his feet next to her. It didn't take long for Hiyori to learn his motto seemed to be "Disagree first, think later," so she waited silently for the boy to settle beside her.

"Okay, so this move is used when the attacker has already caught you. Running away is our objective. Let's say your arms are pinned down," she reached forward to stick the boy's arms close to his body. "Now, the first things you should go for are shins and knees- they are the hardest to defend. Kick as hard as you can to distract them, and then rotate your arms like _this_. If you can free only one of them or the attacker isn't too hurt to follow you, then aim for their solar plexus. It's a bit harder to hit, around here-" she tapped the appropriate place on her stomach, "but it is very painful. Oh, and don't use your fists. It's difficult to punch in a way that won't hurt you as well as the attacker _and_ cause enough damage. Your elbows are a much better, sturdier option- that's the reason you can see a lot of power elbows as finish moves in MMA, too. Other good places to aim are the throat and the groin, though they are more probable to be successfully defended. If you get the chance, try to hurt their eyes, too. And remember to keep moving - you are small and nimble, so you should use it at your advantage. "

Yukine carefully repeated the shown steps. "Huh. Funny, how much you-"

"Hello everybody! I've had your drinks refilled!"

The two whirled around to see Yato running towards them, carrying two bottles of cool water in his arms. Yukine almost flew out of the ring, grabbing the bottle and downing half of the content in one go.

"Good work today, kid, though I gotta say I had my doubts. Good thing we have a doctor legacy in the room so we don't have to worry."

Hiyori almost sent her bottle plummeting to the floor.

 _How did he…_

The sounds of Yukine choking on his gulp of water exploded in the air.

"Wh… what?"

Yukine's voice croaked as he rubbed his throat.

Yato blinked. "Hiyori didn't tell you about how she first met Yato-sama? She healed my nose with nothing but tissues and water. After massacring it first, of course."

"O-oh. Hiyori did?" Yukine turned towards her. "You smashed his face? Why? Don't you have some kind of a weirdly strong respect for this guy?"

Hiyori was still a bit stunned from Yato's previous comment. "I…"

"Of course she respects me!" Yato looped his elbow around her shoulders and, to her utter horror, pulled her into a side hug. "She was all _Yato sama, Yato-sama!_ from the very beginning. Smart one, knows how to get under your skin, I can tell you that."

 _How long until my biceps feel like this?_

Yukine's expression turned skeptical. "But you're a trainer that treats her bruises with cat videos."

 _He smells nice, too.  
_  
"She understands. Give it some time, kid, and I'm pretty sure I'll soon replace that Touno as Hiyori's number one, too."

Who does this guy think he i-

"Well," she clipped, completely sobered and ducking under his arm, "I think I'll go hit the showers and bid you goodbye. See you tomorrow, Yukine-kun. See you tomorrow, Yato."

"… sama."

"See you tomorrow," she yanked her sports bag off the floor, "Yato."

With a flick of her ponytail, she was out of God of Calamity's gym.

~*~

Yato stood frozen in the middle of the hall, one hand outstretched as if he could manage to stop the girl if he concentrated long enough.

"Well done, Romeo-sama."

Yato pretended to glare at the kid, observing his casual posture- his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jersey, head purposefully turned away from the man.

The fabric of his pockets was trembling unceremoniously.

 _The poor kid is scared shitless._

Well. Now was as good of time as ever.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Yukine eyed him suspiciously.

"You won't be able to see it from that distance."

The boy approached him slowly, not changing his pose of fake confidence. Such a familiar sight, yet…

Yato reached for the back of his collar and took off his T-shirt over his head.

Yukine, who was already standing too close and almost got slapped in the nose by the fabric, jumped away. "Whoa! What the shit are you doing, you per-"

"Got this one when I was eleven."

The boy stopped flailing his arms. Yato knew he had his attention by the way the kid's eyes bulged out at the sight of a spiky, messy line streaking over his naked shoulder blade.

"Not a nice story behind it. Though it isn't as bad as the one behind _this_ ," he pointed at a little star-shaped area of tender white skin above his heart. "That one maybe smaller, but it was _way_ messier."

Yukine's expression softened into a mask of peace, though his gaze was still panicked.

"But those are considered the lucky ones," Yato continued, "since they can be easily covered up. It's the ones up here that are tricky."

His fingers brushed away the messy strands of bangs to enable the boy a full view. Yato's face was always a bit on the tender side- high cheekbones, round jawline, pointy chin- and a speciality that made healing without consenquences much easier. He'd never had to worry about ending up with a lumpy heap of clay instead of a face like the fighters of sturdier, more angular and more breakable built.

But he'd spent hours counting tiny lumps and marks lining his brow and cheeks. He stared at the mirror, wondering if they would ever go away, feeling some kind of a stupid happiness they weren't in places he couldn't hide by growing out his hair.

He let his bangs sweep his forehead again. "It's not just me, either. Did you take a careful look at Hiyori's face? I mean, I knew her thighs and shins are powerful enough to become superheroes and beat up villain leagues all on their own," he sailed over Yukine's stutters, "but if you look at her nose, you can see it's slightly bumpy. She got it treated at a great place with a doctor who knows his job, but it's still visible that it was broken a few times."

Yukine was clasping the front of his shirt now. His fingers were digging deep into the fabric, as if trying to rip it apart and reach whatever was underneath. It was impossible, but maybe he somehow picked up on Yato's pattern of choosing which marks to explain.

It made Yato want to beat something to a pulp.

He forced his breathing to even. Fury would be the last thing appropriate in this situation. "What I'm saying is, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. The fact that I have scars means there were wounds where they are now. I healed. They don't hurt me anymore."

 _Ouch._

"Also," Yato continued, putting his shirt back on and stretching, "when I said you'll be paying me five yen an hour, I also meant every hour you spend inside this studio. Like, you can go visit other teachers and see if they'd share some grains of wisdom with you. You can come right after school and go around nagging people to help you with homework too - Hiyori is pretty smart, and she's here every day. You can spend breaks with other students. But you'll be paying me every moment of it."

Yukine seemed to start gathering himself up again. That annoying, arrogant glow was returning to his irises. A wave of satisfaction washed over Yato.

"Why should I pay you for stuff other people do?"

"Why, indeed."

Yato held his gaze, waiting for the boy to understand the message.

Yukine's cheeks went red again. He whirled on his heel and ran out of the room, not slowing down while grabbing his things off the floor.

 _This one will be something else,_ he smirked, stretching himself over the floor. Wah. This was a nice change of pace, for once.

Not long afterwards the call reached him.

"Yato? There's a girl waiting for you at the entrance. She says she has something important to tell you so you should hurry up."

He mused over it while changing his workout clothes for a more appropriate outfit. What could Hiyori want from him? She barely left and there she was again. Maybe she wants to apologize and ask him to allow him to call him Yato-sama again?

 _My ass._ He knew she wasn't spineless like that the moment she requested him to take her in, angry stubbornness burning behind those gravely brown eyes of hers.

Maybe it could be Yukine? Yato _did_ make a pretty awkward mistake that night in the alley. Maybe the receptionist did the same.

There was one other option, of course. One he didn't like to think about, but still considered it while observing his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Suddenly his face looked drained of all the energy he had collected spending the afternoon with his students (Now it was _students_ , plural!) .

The first glance of the coal-black hair illuminated by the streetlamp on the sidewalk puled the last threads of optimism out of him.

However, the girl's lips stretched into a tiny smile upon seeing him.

"How have you been, Yato?"

"Hiiro, how many times do I have to ask you: Stay away from my workplace."

"And I always answer you: I have no other way to pick you up."

A shiver ran all the way to the tips of his toes. "Is it time already?"

No way this was a routine summon. Barely two weeks had passed since the last time.

Hiiro shrugged her skinny shoulders. Her frame was wrapped in a too-big jersey to protect her from the chilly spring night, but… He wondered if her tendency to miss meals showed up again.

If it did, it couldn't mean anything good.

It also meant he shouldn't try to sneak away from this one.

Yato positioned his arms behind his head in an uncaring position. No use. He couldn't stop the shaking.

"Lead the way."

Hiiro's teeth peeked through her lips- the closest the kid ever got to beaming.

"You know," she started, skipping through the evening darkness a few steps in front of him, "it would be way better if getting in touch with you wouldn't be so complicated. I missed you. You never call."

 _As if I'd let you know my phone number,_ he thought, but kept his eyes on the floor _._ His heart ached at the sight of her little feet in spotless white flats dancing in and out of his vision.

"You wouldn't miss me if you listened to at least one word I say," he pointed out.

She slowly turned to him, a tiny pout appearing on her young face. "Yato, don't be ridiculous."

"Why do people feel the need to call me that so often? If you just-"

"That's because you are," she chided. "You and I both know this is just another one of your phases. Soon you'll realize it simply isn't worth it and we'll be together again! I just need to be patient until then."

He _hated_ it when she treated him as if he were the one nine years younger and not her. _Especially_ when she had no idea what was she talking about.

 _She_ was the ignorant one. Not him. Not him.

"Can you honestly tell me you are okay with the way things are right now? Can you look me in the eye and tell me, _No, there isn't one part of me that wants to burn that fucking hellhole to the ground_?"

The girl pursed her lips, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "No need to be so angry, Yato. I won't tell Father what you just said, but don't ever repeat something like that. You are really ungrateful, you know."

He knew their conversation would just spin in circles from this point on, but he still swallowed the bait. He felt destructive tonight. "Ungrateful."

"You are given such wonderful things. You have a home where you can always feel accepted. You have a family that will make sure of it. You are _loved_. Father and I miss you so much, Yato, and you are throwing us away for a child who will stay for a week and then slam the door into your face on their way out."

Well, two, now. And one signed a contract to stay for a while. Then he remembered the brunette ponytail disappearing from his reach.

"You aren't giving us the same treatment we are giving you. And it breaks our hearts over and over again, every time you leave."

 _You really are Dad's daughter, you know. It's as if I'm talking to a tiny, bob-haircut version of him._

But her words felt too real. He felt as if they were swarming around his head, as if he could snatch them right out of the air by their disgusting, hairy wings and keep them in a jar inside his brain to admire them every now and then. Whenever he was feeling hopeful.

She knew what was she doing to him, playing the guilt-game with him. It pissed him off to allow her to emerge victorious, but it hurt too much. Thinking hurt too much. He was completely helpless, both against the young girl next to him and the person hiding inside that ugly jar. He was tired, and if his assumptions were correct, this wasn't even the beginning of the intensity of self-loathing that would overflow him by the end of the night. So he willed himself to slip into the cold, uncaring mask of Father's son.

He didn't take it off until hours later, when he was standing over a wash basin trying to scrape his nails clean of the half-dried blood stuck underneath them.

Maybe one of these days he could soak in some of Hiyori's naïve, yet incredibly useful courage.

 **~*~ A/N**

… **Hi there.**

 **I'm pleased to say that this chaptermarks the CONCLUSION of the introductions.**

 **Oh, and I'm not sure if I've written it here yet, but this fic is being beta's by tumblr user britaisy! She's my savior tbh**

 **Thanks to Meta-Akira for some nice reviewing *I do encourage what's written in there, for the record [u]* and new favs and follows!**

 **I'm about 75% done with chapter 5, so I hope I'll get to upload it sometime these next few days.**

 **-Jo**


	5. Know Your Opponent

**Know Your Opponent**

 _[3:09]_

 _Hiyo: Today is my first tournament._

 _[3:10]_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: whaaa? really? today? why didn't you tell me earlier?_

 _[3:12]_

 _Hiyo: I was too nervous. Are you that stoked to come and see me fight all of a sudden? w_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: i was gonna invite you to a mixer tomorrow night! if you get messed up, there's no way you would agree and i'll be stranded with my cousin as a last-minute again!_

 _[3:13]_

 _Hiyo: Oh. Chi-chan isn't that bad, is she?_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: i look like a shellfish next to her_

 _Hiyo: I'm sure you'll figure it out._

 _[3:14]_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: ah. are you there yet? has it already started?_

 _Hiyo: I'm on my way. My part of the competition doesn't start until four, but I have to be there for preparations._

 _Hyakkiyakouist: you think your precious trainer would be willing to give you a good luck kiss?_

 _[3:18]_

 _Hiyo: I hope you have a good time on your mixer, Yama-chan!_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: i will cry a lot. and i'll think about you. i hope you get some faces smashed in and not the other way around. may touno-sama guide you_ ٩ _(•̤̀ᵕ_ _•̤́_ ๑ _)_ ૭✧

 _Hiyo: (_ و _˃̵ᴗ˂̵)_ و _Let's do this!_

Hiyori stared at the emoticon. Somehow, the nausea that bothered her during the whole night and the most of that day hummed silently, as threatening as the silence before a summer storm.

She knew it well.

June was pretty meak this year, which she was thankful for. She needed some fresh air to cool her head. She was just passing the sweets shop and promising herself to get some reward after the matches were done, when she noticed a familiar golden head getting out of a shiny white car stopped a few meters down the street.

"Yukine-kun!" she called and hurried over.

Yukine jumped up, the overnight bag on his back hitting the car door as he whirled towards her. She slowed down,confused by the strained look on his face. He turned towards the car window and seemed to exchange a few silent words with the person inside. A few moments later the door opened and another man stepped onto the pavement.

It was obvious the man was a person from Yukine's family. His blonde hair was neatly brushed and their eyes shared the same shape, though his were muddy green. He wore a crisp white button-down and a pair of shoes that looked like the ones Hiyori's father saved for anniversaries and weddings. The outfit matched the big, inviting smile on his face.

"Come, come, don't be shy. I am Yukine's father, I gave him a lift on my way to work. Yukine tells me you're the one he's meeting today?"

"Hello," she greeted slowly, trying to decipher Yukine's warning look. "I'm Hiyori Iki. I am one of the members of the-"

"She's a third-year in that fancy school we were discussing," Yukine interrupted her, shrugging. "She's the sister of this one guy from my elementary school, and she's on the sports baseball scholarship so I figured I might as well get as much info on the way the whole training thing is ruled. The sooner the better."

"Oh?" Yukine's father raised his eyebrows. His eyes traveled to the sports bag hanging from Hiyori's shoulder. "Are you two going to practice?"

Utterly lost, Hiyori scrambled for words. "We-we're meeting some other people before that," she stuttered. Not a complete lie.

"That's good," the man laughed and ruffled Yukine's hair. "Glad to see you thinking like an adult, brat. See you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Iki-san!" He clasped Hiyori's hand in his ruff grasp and shook it.

After another "Enjoy!" and a silent purr of an expensive car engine, he was gone.

The two stood together in awkward silence, Yukine's gaze fixed on the floor. Too confused to think of any kind of appropriate opening lines, Hiyori decided to leave him to decide on an explanation by himself.

"I don't think he'd be too happy to find out I'm gonna be watching a MMA fight." Yukine rubbed his hands together. "He is very… uh, how to say, _delicate_ about things I involve myself with. Especially if they're anything else except schoolwork and clubs."

Well, _this_ she could relate to. She patted his shoulder and motioned towards where _Hafuri_ was hidden by the buildings. "How come you're arriving this early? There's forty minutes left until the beginning of the opening ceremony."

Yukine's steps fell in line with hers. He looked happy to change the subject. "Oh, I was already there today. There was no class today so Kofuku asked me to come in and help her during the kids' karate recital in the morning. I only went back home for our family weekend lunch because that too is something that guy is _crazy_ about, but… yeah. Here I am."

Hiyori nodded. It's been one month since Yukine joined her group in Yato's class. He would arrive towards the end of her session, do some exercises with her, and then listen to whichever five-minute-lesson Hiyori had prepared for him that day. After that, he went to roam Hafuri until Yato and Hiyori finished the part of training that would be too hard for him to follow. He would often get swindled into participating in Kofuku's kids classes. He stayed until the evening, hanging out with her and Yato on their post-training dinners (they become a sort of a habit for them- way better than cold, lonely meals at 11 PM at her small apartment).

She didn't know what happened on that first day that made him change his mind about the profit coming out of Yato's teachings - especially since there was _no_ change in his attitude towards Yato himself - but she was glad he decided to stay.

Also, Hiyori was very satisfied to see that the boy had no new marks of violence visible anywhere on him. Their five-yen training really was paying off.

"We're here," she called as they entered the chilly Hall 1, the arena used during tournaments in Hafuri. The ceiling was stretching high above the rows of seats pyramidically set on three sides around the center cage where the matches would take place. A big screen was positioned over the long table that was occupying the last side of the cage. The judges and special guests would be watching from there. People were milling around the hall, workers setting up cameras and talking over earpieces mixed with people in civilian clothes talking and finding good seats to watch the tournament.

"Hiyori!" Yato called from the far corner of the room. He stood there talking Kofuku, her husband, Daikoku, and a dark-haired man in a business suit who she recognized immediately (and almost broke into sprint to reach him sooner), waving at them to come to him.

"Great! These are Yukine, and my student of almost three months, Hiyori Iki. She's my representative for the women's tournament. Hiyori, this is Ebisu, and he's here today to judge your matches."

"Ebi-chan is also here to stalk some new prey, too, so be ready, Hiyorin!"

"It's called _scouting talent._ "

"P-pleased to meet you!" Hiyori trembled. She was being introduced to a real agent! Then, something poked at her memory ever since Kofuku introduced herself all those weeks ago.

"Eh… Ebisu-san? Could you by any chance be related to Daikoku-san?"

"Daikoku? Oh, no, Hiyorin!" Kofuku skipped to Ebisu's side and stood up on her toes. "Ebi-chan would be _my_ baby brother!"

Ebisu sighed as if annoyed, but his expression didn't change. "I'd be thrilled if you wouldn't call me a child."

"Your brother?" Hiyori turned to the couple. "Why is then..."

"I've taken in my wife's surname. The Ebisu's are an important name around here- their company is Hafuri's most important sponsor," Daikoku explained, "Ebisu is the CEO right now, since Kofuku was too much of a free spirit to pick being locked up in an office the whole day."

"Agreed. Stinky rooms aren't for me!"

"I do own a third of this studio," Ebisu admitted.

The intercoms overhead suddenly crackled with static and a male voice sounded through the room.

"Ebisu-sama? Ebisu-sama, where are you? You are needed by Bishamon-sama at once. Please answer our calls."

Ebisu raised his gaze to the intercoms, frowning slightly. "Why would you use such a flashy way of contacting me when..." as he spoke, he fished around his pocket for a black smartphone and tapped it a few times. "Oh. It seems I have forgotten to turn off the silent mode again."

 _But wouldn't your phone be ringing constantly if you are a CEO of a big company?_

"Ebisu!" another person stumbled into their little circle- Kazuma-san, his cheeks red and breath a bit huffed. "There you are! HE'S OVER HERE! We've been looking for you for the last half an hour! We have an important new would-be sponsor waiting to meet you! And Bishamon wants to introduce-"

"Sorry. I was here, talking to Yato-san."

"Yato-" Kazuma turned towards the man as if noticing him for the first time, then, panicked, back towards the direction from which he just came. "Ehh-"

"Kazuma? You found him?"

A female voice reached them, making Yato's eyes widen and his body jump as if preparing to run.

But Bishamon-sama already arrived, a young girl on her arm. Her long braid was glimmering in the hall light, her red lipstick perfectly matching the dark blue business outfit she was wearing. The impressive woman had a kind of an intimidating aura glowing around her that made Hiyori _very_ aware of the fact that she was guilty of trespassing into her private space. It also made her want to punch Yato for trying to hunch behind her back.

"Daikoku, Kofuku, Ebisu," Bishamon greeted people around the group with a smile before finally noticing Yukine and Hiyori.

"Yato."

Yato straightened and let go of the sleeve he was using to get Yukine to stand closer to Hiyori. He sported a face that would never let anybody guess he was cowering behind a child a second earlier. "Bishamon."

"I saw something rather unusual in the signup sheets. You're participating this year?" Bishamon asked, sounding as if struggling to keep the curiosity at bay.

"Yep. This is Hiyori," Yato gave her a little nudge, "and she'll kick your pixie's ass out of the prelims before you could even flutter those fake eyelashes."

Hiyori's soul almost burst out of her mouth. "Yato, I don't think-"

"Don't worry, Hiyori-chan," Bishamon flashed her a small but somehow still blinding smile, "I know better than to take anything formed by that bastard tongue seriously. I'm sure you and Aiha here," she tapped the teenager standing next to her, "will do your best today! May the best fighter represent our honorable studio in the brightest of light." The corner of her lips twitched in Yato's direction at the last sentence.

Hiyori did a sloppy bow, her face burning. Bishamon turned to Ebisu and did an introduction similar to the one Yato did for Hiyori earlier, then disappeared in the crowd with him and Kazuma.

Yato whistled. "Whoa, that Aiha girl's out for your blood, Hiyori."

Hiyori could still feel Aiha's piercing gaze on her back. "I-I could say the same thing for you and Bishamon-sama, Yato," she dared to notice. "I-is there a story behind you two we should hear about?"

Kofuku bursted into laughter. "More like a whole _novel,_ I'd say!"

"What does that mean?" Yukine appeared intimidated by the woman, looking in the direction she disappeared. "What the hell did Yato do to her?"

"Hey, why do you automatically conclude it's _my_ fault that bitch is at my throat?" Yato pouted. He pointed his finger at Kofuku in a silent threat.

Daikoku grabbed him by his neck. "Oi, man. Put that finger away from my wife before I shove it somewhere you'll _really_ hate it."

Kofuku just giggled and waved her hand. "Maybe later, at the party, when I'm drunk enough to talk and Yato's had enough to sleep like a baby log!"

"Party?"

"What's a bab-" Yukine slowly shook his head. "Anyways, Hiyori, we were thinking about staying together after the tournament."

"We can hang out at our gym! There's a table and plenty of space, _and_ Yato's liquor cabinet is right upstairs!"

"I'm still too young for alcohol," Hiyori looked at Yukine, "and so are you. And you're staying the night anyway?"

Yukine raised his hands in defense. "I'm not doing anything. I just wanted to go over some stuff with Daikoku before the next class. Plus, I was fairly certain you'd pick to stay, too. You seem responsible enough."

"Yeah, Hiyori, let the kid stay and play if he wants," Yato said, poking Yukine's cheek and almost losing his fingers in the process.

Hiyori caught herself chuckling at the sight. She completely forgot about her discomfort.

"... I guess one night away from home won't hurt," she concluded.

"YAYYYYY!" Kofuku threw herself at her. "IT WILL BE SOO MUCH FUN! Maybe we'll even be celebrating Hiyorin's victory as the Hafuri representative!" she cheered.

Hiyori blushed. "Oh, nooooo..."

"What's that whole "representative" thing?" Yukine pitched in. "Bishamon used the word earlier, too. "

"Yukki! Do you even know where are you right now?"

Yukine glanced over Hiyori's shoulder at the sign above the entrance. "Uh, Hall 1?"

" _The_ Hall 1!" Hiyori couldn't contain her enthusiastic yell, "and the Golden Fortunes Tournament judged by the Seven Gods of Fortune, the event of the year for the world of MMA trainees!"

Everybody's eyes turned to her, stunned.

"You did your homework, Hiyori," chuckled Yato.

Hiyori clasped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry," she muttered, through her fingers.

"No, no," he chided, his elbow poking her in the ribs, "keep going! Little Yukine here is all ears."

"Shut it, Sweaty," Yukine flicked Yato's nose. "Keep going, Hiyori," he prompted, ignoring Yato's wailing.

"Um… The Golden Fortunes tournament is a martial arts meeting held between six of the most famous gyms in all of Japan, Hafuri being one of them. The president of each club is one of the judges, plus Ebisu-san, their most important business partner. Over the next few days they'll hold various amateur tournaments, but the today's program, the MMA section, is the most memorable one. You see, every trainer at the club chooses one of their students to represent them in the event. They battle the other representatives to decide who would represent their club, and then those representatives compete for the Golden Fortune title." She made a pause to let out a dreamy sight. "Every year talent scouts from across the country pile up to watch. If you win the Golden Fortune, your career is as good as guaranteed. Even if you just fight and prove you're special enough you have fairly good chances to get recruited. Here is where the best of students become the best of professionals."

Yukine nodded. "So, how do you know you'll be fighting that girl who came with Bishamon, then?"

"That's 'cuz Bisha and Yatty are the only MMA trainers around here!" Kofuku pointed out. "And this is Yatty's first time competing overall."

"Wha? Really? This is your first time mentoring someone?"

Yato scratched his neck. "No. It's just my first time on the whole Golden thing."

"" _Golden thing"_?" Yukine repeated after him, "What kind of a misinformed MMA fanboy planet are you from?"

The man huffed and ruffled Yukine's hair. "Let's go, Golden Boy. Hiyori needs to get changed and prepare for beating that pinky to the floor."

A few hours later, that was exactly what Hiyori was preparing for.

It's been months since the last time she had an actual sparring match. Yato refused to partner up with her and never offered to bring in another student to help out- now she knew why, at least. She doubted Bishamon would accept any kind of a proposal from Yato.

Well. No use reminiscing about it now. The God of Calamity believed she had a chance at this, even though he was the one who made her train the basic stance for weeks. He was always filled to top with useful tips for the mental part of the battle, too. In a way, it was all of the encouragement she needed.

Outside the cage corner closest to her was a little podium made for the breaks. It contained a comfortable stool, ice packs, and a space from which her trainer and family could watch the match. Yato and Yukine ("Those are the best seats in the house, better for the kid to learn from up close," Yato claimed) currently flanked her sides, the three of them waiting for the announcer to stop talking and invite Hiyori into the cage.

Her palms were coated in beads of sweat. It's been so long.

"Hey, Hiyori?"

She kept her eyes on the big screen currently displaying a bubble tea brand ad. "Yes, Yato?"

"Won't your hair be a problem in there?"

"Well, if the bun gets undone, I'll just redo it during the pause."

She was to make it through three rounds, five minutes each.

"That's not too safe."

"..."

"Hey, Hiyori?"

She sighed. "Yes, Yato?"

"Can Yukine and I make you a good luck braid?"

Hiyori swirled to face him.

"A good luck braid! We can pin it back up afterwards. That way your hair won't become too much of a bother even if the bun does fall apart. It can be used as a good luck charm, considering it would be braided by a god!"

"... Okay."

Yukine's reaction was a complete opposite from Yato's. "Oh, no. God or no god, I'm braiding no hair."

Yato shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She felt the knot of her being pulled free, then his fingers brushing her scalp when picking the topmost strands of her hair as a starting point.

Hiyori tried hard to switch her focus back to the upcoming match.

"And this one goes here… put this one over this part he- aw, fuck. Yukine, hold this here."

"... Hold what."

"The one from my left hand. Yes. Hold it in place until I tell you otherwise. Okay, let it go- no, don't _drop it_ , just lay it down geeently- yes, like that."

"What do I do with this one?"

"Hold it still. This is a delicate period."

Now there was two pairs of hands working down towards the back of her neck. The boys argued over who put the light one next to the dark one instead of over it. It made her smile.

Hiyori hated to admit it, but the reason she didn't do such a thing by herself was because she was _terrible_ at braiding her own hair. His suggestion hit right home, and she couldn't help but wonder if he somehow realized it himself.

"There, all done!" Yato clapped his hands. "The magic of yours truly."

Hiyori reached up and felt the finished design. They collected the braid back into a bun,making the hairstyle much sturdier than before.

"And what am I, a boiled cabbage?" Yukine protested.

"Yours truly and his faithful young protegee."

"I did at least the same amount of job as you did, you geezer, so why don't you-"

"Thank you," she whispered.

Yato and Yukine turned to her.

Suddenly there was a man reaching for her to get into the ring. She accepted the last of the boys' good wishes and raised herself onto the podium.

Hiyori remembered seeing the girl standing in front of her around the studio from time to time, but never in full sparring equipment- purple shorts, white-lined gloves, her long, faintly pink hair now collected into a knot at the base of her neck. Though Hiyori wasn't above the average herself, her opponent was much shorter than her. Still, her arms looked like they held more power than Hiyori's.

"And now, the last round of preliminaries of women's tournament: from the Hafuri Studio, Hiyo of Yato class in black and Aiha of Bishamon class in purple!"

Aiha caught her assessing eye. Hiyori decided to risk flashing a quick smile. The corners of her mouth sank a bit when it was accepted with a frown.

So this girl meant business after all.

Hiyori eased herself into her starting pose.

The bell rang and sailed out of the sound and movement outside the cage, focusing solely on the opponent meeting her in the middle.

 _Be critical._

It didn't take long for her to notice Aiha's first shortcoming- her feet, once airborne, seemed to take too long to reach the ground again. She was pretty sure this was due to the girl's nervousness- such an unstable stance couldn't have been recommended by a professional.

The recklessness of her steps combined plus Hiyori's height advantage… getting her to fall down in the most painful way possible would be the quickest, safest route to go.

Hiyori interrupted their circling with a quick, short jab, pleased to feel it connecting.

The first of the crowd's surprised voices reached her.

 _There it is._

Her heart skipping a happy beat as she fell back to avoid Aiha's counterattack.

As long as she made sure not to leave any openings for her opponent to attack her mid-swing, she could do this.

She swung her leg in a high kick, earning gasps from the audience.

"THAT'S IT! SHOW HER THE POWERLEGS!"

One cheer in particular managed to pierce its way to her ears.

Aiha doubled to the side, managing to avoid the full momentum of the attack by sheer luck. Or so Hiyori thought, until she changed her direction mid-air and colliding with Hiyori's midriff.

Surprised, Hiyori dug her feet into the ground, struggling against the force pushing her down.

She was _strong_.

Aiha was _too_ strong.

Trying to push this unsettling realization out of her head, she searched for a way for her knee to push Aiha away. Once successful, she gave the girl no time for recovery before swinging her foot in a wild arc again-

-only to feel Aiha's grip tightening around her shin.

She had no time to blink before she felt herself flying backwards in an outside trip.

 _Stupid._

Stars exploded behind her eyelids.

 _Stupid, stupid-_

 _No regrets,_ another voice broke through, _accept your mistake and focus on correcting it instead of dwelling on the unchangeable._

The same voice was spewing curses and encouragements from the corner of her vision.

She wiggled around in Aiha's arms, kicking herself off the floor before the attacker got a firm grasp on the move and flipping onto her back. However, this gave Aiha a chance to get a good guillotine on her.

Air was slipping through her clenched teeth.

 _Keep your head high._

She patted to get a feel of the space inside the radius around her legs. If only she could get one of them free…

She went through this routine a hundred times. She could get out.

She started thrashing her legs in rhythmic jerks, allowing the other girl to adjust.

Then, she yanked with all her might and straddled Aiha's left leg.

 _Yes._

Hiyori snaked out through her newly formed escape route and swung her right-

A hard blow caught her by the chin and sent her stumbling backwards, metallic tang of blood filling her mouth.

 _Her other leg got free._

Aiha was sprawled on her back, her feet prepared for another defence, face red and furious.

 _I can't get close to her._

Ringing brought her back to the earth. Round one ended.

She slumped against her chair, grabbing an ice pack out of the cooler next to her chair.

"What's the damage?" Yukine asked, offering her a towel.

"My-my right shoulder," she whispered, accepting it, "I did a bad landing that time. And I bit down on my cheek when she kicked me."

"What did you gather on her?" Yato's tone was calm. He paused his cheerleader mode to play the teacher role during her break.

Comforted, she repeated her thoughts about Aiha to him in a hushed voice.

Yato nodded. "And you know what are you supposed to do now?"

Her answer was cut short by the announcement for the beginning of the second round.

She strolled back to the centre of the cage. It was visible she got enough hits at Aiha's face in that first round. The girl seemed to watch her with a steadier gaze now, though the over-the-top enmity was still there.

She noticed the change in her technique- now that they were both aware that, when it came to wrestling, Aiha was the definitive winner, she made her attempts to bring Hiyori to the ground more frequent, robbing her of any chance at combo attacking.

Aiha nullified Hiyori's forthcomings by choosing a battle of strength.

 _Think, but not too much._

Getting desperate, Hiyori tried for another high kick, this time aiming properly. Aiha repositioned her centre of gravity by stepping to the side and crouching low, slammed her into the floor again, pinning and bringing back her arms-

 _She's going for ground and pound._

But, Aiha's blow came almost unnoticed, dulled by the insufficiency of space between their bodies- a very reckless mistake.

Could it be Aiha was afraid the fight was getting too repetitive?

Hiyori didn't dwell on this thought too long- seizing the opportunity, she grabbed the punching arm, ledged her left leg under her armpit and flipped her entire body, bending her elbow in an unnatural angle between the holds.

 _Arm bars are a great finisher. The pain is an excellent submission encourager._

Only a few more seconds. Only a few more seconds and she might get out of this round as the-

She felt the floor of the cage unsticking itself from her sweaty back.

" _She picked her up!_ "

"HIYORI, LET GO, NOW!" Yato screamed from the lines. She had no time to listen before Aiha slammed her into the ground.

The point where her right shoulder connected to her neck cracked unpleasantly.

Distracted, Hiyori swung her feet randomly, trying to buy herself time. But an unexpected sound reached her- Aiha slamming into the ground right in front of her.

 _Did I-_

Blocking out the pain, she shot off the ground, propelled by the crowd's now frantic yells, and landed on top of Aiha, bringing down her elbows.

"AAND THE ROUNDS ENDS in a WONDERFUL GROUND AND POUND!"

She pushed herself off the girl. Her lip finally split, a faint trace of blood smudging her snarling teeth. Aiha kicked Hiyori's outstretched hand away and stormed towards her corner. Hiyori turned towards her own and shrugged, twitching at the sudden burst of pain in her upper back.

Yato didn't have to speak. Even if she didn't hear everything that escaped his mouth during that last minute, his proud face was a dead giveaway.

"What was _that_?!" However, Yukine's face was ashen grey. "I thought- that looked _-_ Can you even stand?"

"Don't worry, Yukine-kun," she tried for a smile, waving her (left) hand. "Just pass me- that pack and I'll- I'll be fine in no time!"

"No, really, do these matches always get this intense?" he shook his head slightly, staring at a man wiping drops of Aiha's blood off the floor of the cage.

"Well, usually not." Yato gestured at Hiyori to explain.

She knew what he meant. "She seems to be trying hard to perform as flashy as possible," she added. "She's taking me down in an unnecessarily complicated way. It's visible she's aiming to get scouted today."

"I mean, she..." Yukine gestured with a bottle in his hands, a movement similar to that Lion King scene if the baby lion was three tons heavy, "She picked you up. Just like that. While you were trying to break her arm."

"Well, yeah, it's a known fact MMA is a lovechild of martial arts and showbusiness," Yato took the bottle away from him, sent it spinning in the air and caught it by his elbow. "We gotta give those hyenas something to get excited over."

"Where did you learn _that_?! Show me tomorrow!"

"It's a secret trade passed down my family for generations. I'd have to adopt you to tell you."

"Oh, come on! You too can be useful as a teacher once, can't you?"

Hiyori trailed away, going back to Yato's response. It sounded pretty harsh- though, it was true innovativity was one of the main charms of MMA.

"Iki-san? Round three is about to start."

She felt blood draining from her face.

"Hiyori?" Yukine's concern didn't seem to be soothed just yet.

"I will be okay," Hiyori replied, wincing at the unsteadiness of her voice.

"You will," Yato confirmed, carefully slapping her on the back, avoiding her injury. "You have all that you need in your head. If you manage to pull this one off..."

He was right. The fight wasn't over yet.

And trial or not, over the past two rounds her wish to emerge victorious from this meeting reached a desperate, painful level of intensity.

Her arms found the cage and she entered round three.

After the bell sounded, it was obvious the results would be decided over the next few minutes. Both girls slowly circled each other. Aiha's split lip didn't look that bad after being cleaned. She did seem to have somehow injured her left leg, even though Hiyori had no idea what happened to make her limp that pronounced. An old wound reopened, maybe?

She could see the fire mirroring her own burning inside her eyes.

Hiyori broke the contact and lunged forward.

Left-right-left. Nicely served.

 _This is good._

A high kick. Block the counterattack. It failed. Block. Block.

 _Just don't let her get you down._

Just as she thought it, Aiha reached for another advance to get her in a clench. Hiyori swayed to avoid it, but in vain. She strained her legs, clenching her teeth. _What now?_

Her eyes, focused on the floor, lingered on a missing piece in the otherwise perfect form of her rival.

Aiha's left foot was completely out of their centre of gravity, leaving plenty of space to…

With all her might, Hiyori slammed herself to the ground.

A surprised snarl escaped Aiha's lips as she found herself on one knee. Her bad leg was bent and carried her weight, the other one sprawled in front of her to steady her pose. Her arms were still stunned from being ripped apart by the force of another body mass.

 _Not a big show, but..._

Hiyori's pulse roared in triumph in the same intonation as the crowd as she bounced back upwards, preparing her fist, air messing her bangs and blood boiling in her ears.

 _I'll remember it forever._

It was as far as she got until she felt knuckles under her ribs, breath breaking her windpipe in its hurry to escape her lungs, the coldness of the floor and hot pain in her shoulder.

The zone of danger.

She should've gone for a jab from a distance. She should've stayed in her place after collapsing and make sure her position was secured before going in for a finisher.

Instead of using her biggest advantage in this match, Hiyori strolled straight into another battle of strength.

Her thought ran wild, sound leaking out of sync with the picture. Aiha was gasping, jumping over her legs, raising her fists to end the round exactly like the previous one, except now Hiyori was the one on the receiving end of the fire.

She glanced towards the long table behind the fence to her right. The judges' faces were unreadable. Bishamon's eyebrows were raised slightly- she was highly interested in how would the end of this play out. Kofuku was going absolutely crazy in her seat in the audience, grasping her husband's shirt as if trying to prevent herself from jumping right into the seemed to be on the verge of tears, his fingers over his ears.

Her trainer was screaming something that looked like " _Stop overthinking, stupid!_ ".

Overthinking…

The timer showed that only two minutes and twelve seconds of the round passed.

 _I'm not done yet!_

If Hiyori sobered only a few moments later, she'd be stuck. She put all of her force into swinging her left elbow just as she felt Aiha's blow making the skin of her right cheekbone crack. The girl was thrown to the left, the weight lifting off Hiyori's knees and rolling her onto her stomach.

Hiyori scrambled to get back onto her knees, making the most out of her miraculous escape.

There was a grasp on her left thigh, followed by a slam into her neck. She reached behind her, preparing to intercept the oncoming clench, but a triangle was already set tight around her head-

Bending it into an unnatural angle-

Her hips rotating-

Her spine struggling stuck between two parts of her body being stretched into two different directions, screaming in agony, making flowers of white and red appear in the blackness, screaming, screaming, screami-

Taps on the floor. Tears blurring her vision.

"DID YOU SEE THAT? WHAT AN OVERKILL! BUT WELL PULLED OFF, AND SO WE WELCOME THIS ABSOLUTELY CRAZY TWISTER AS THE FINAL ROUND ENDS IN A SUBMISSION!"

"AaaaaaaAAAAAAND SO TONIGHT WE CELEBRATE HIYORIN," Kofuku stood on the table to bring her glass even closer to the ceiling, "who managed to finish her tournament with a few scratches and a minor sprain!"

Yukine raised his orange juice to his lips. "It looked really bad, you know. I was sure your shoulder was completely busted."

"Aiha... did do some damage by the time she was done with me." Hiyori stretched her palm absentmindedly, already itching under her sling.

"I was kinda happy to see _her_ getting busted in the semi-finals," Yukine admitted, "though I'm still not sure it was fair to put her against somebody twice her size. Don't you have categories you gotta respect or something?"

"We do. Men's part of the contest has three parts, one for each category of the Golden. I think there weren't enough female contestants to make separate matches for everybody," Hiyori answered, listing female contestants she saw earlier that day in her head. There wasn't too big of a gap between them- even the girl who beat Aiha was slender enough not to be considered too overpowered.

"Well, yeah, MMA isn't really considered a girl's ideal hobby."

Hiyori's pulse quickened. She knew Yukine didn't mean anything by it - he never made another remark about her involvement with such sports after that first awkward slipup... The words still stirred some unpleasant memories.

"But you were amazing, Hiyori-chan," Daikoku said while bending down to refill her glass, "especially considering you had no real practice before the match."

"Yeah, imagine if _somebody,_ " Yukine pointedly turned to the corner of the dojo closest to him, "actually took time to train you properly."

" _Hey,_ " Yato yelled back, "I _did_ give her proper training! I mean, what's the _point_ in beating her to the ground before I see _why_ would I have to do it?"

"I believe Yatty is trying to say he prefers to see his students in a real, all-out situation before deciding which points does he have to strengthen in their technique," Kofuku translated.

Yato pointed at the woman with his sake bottle. "You get me."

Kofuku mimicked his action with her (now empty) glass. "Always did, Yatty!" she purred.

Yato had enough time to shoot her a bright smile before returning to dozing off again.

"Ah, no, you won't!" Daikoku jumped on his feet and raised Yato on his shoulder in support. "You ain't gonna fall asleep here and make a mess when you wake up again. Last time the kids complained about the stench of vomit for _days._ "

"Daikokuuuuuuuuu… You know what I'd like? A nice, warm..." Yato's voice disappeared from the room as Daikoku dragged him up the stairs into his attic. The older man was soon back, looking a bit shaken up.

Yukine crossed his arms over his chest. "So now that he's gone, Kofuku-san, are you drunk enough yet? I have some questions about-"

"Dawww, listen to him!" Kofuku bursted into a merry round of laughter. "Yukki is something else! You should see him during my classes, Hiyorin- he's a genius! A little genius!"

"He has a natural talent in calming down those kids with his magical, made-up, child-friendly curses," Daikoku confirmed, nodding at the blushing boy. "By the way, how's studying under Yato? You thinkin' of becoming a full-timer like Hiyori?"

Yukine huffed. "Yeah, right. The whole "beat each other until blood pours out" thing is a bit too intense for me. And Yato is an annoying idiot who loves to talk in those stupid, mysterious sentences instead of just telling me what the hell am I supposed to do. Besides, that bastard gets way too stinky even during the easiest of training, and I don't wanna be involved with that any more than I have to."

" _Have to_? You don't _have_ to do anything, Yukki," Kofuku rested her chin on top of her hands and leaned towards the boy. "So, what's keeping you tied to _Hafuri_?"

Yukine scooted away from her and stammered: "N-noth- I mean-"

"But _I_ gotta tell _you_ what I know?" Kofuku pouted. "You're cruel, Yukki. How about a game: first I answer your question, then you answer mine!"

"Kofuku," Daikoku flicked the back of his wife's pink head, making her squeal. "Don't bother the kid."

Yukine gave him a thankful glance. Kofuku protested: "Aww, no fair! This is some pretty valuable info! I wanna get at least _some_ kind of gossip in exchange!" Her purple irises found Hiyori's face. "How about you, Hiyorin? Would you take Yukine's toll upon yourself?"

Hiyori took a moment to consider the words. She craved more information on her trainer. Seeing Bishamon today only reminded her of all the questions boiling inside her.

She had to know.

Hiyori exchanged a quick signal with Yukine before answering: "Okay."

Kofuku screamed and clapped her hands excitedly. "Yayyyy! Well, then, time for me to start," she filled her glass for the who-knows-which time that evening and downed it in one go. "So. Let's start from the beginning. You see, Yato's actually the firstborn child of an old, traditional family, a successor of a big company, but he didn't wanna listen to his over-ambitious parents and ran away from a private school they assigned him to. He's currently in hiding here at the club, living his childhood dream in earning his bread by fighting."

Yukine and Hiyori stared at the woman in silence.

"No _way,_ " Yukine whispered.

It sounded ridiculous. Then again, that man was the very definition of _ridiculous_ all by himself. "Yato is a child of a rich family? Did you know him before, then?"

Kofuku's locks bounced around her head. "Nope, I haven't heard of such a case ever before! Ebi-chan seems to be really suspicious of him, too. But that's the story he told me and everybody else who asked him!"

 _Oh._

"So basically, you have no other leads except of that obvious BS, right?" Yukine's commentary was a bit harsher than Hiyori would word it, but conveyed the same message.

Kofuku raised her fingers as if to silence him. "Ah-ah. I said I've never _heard_ _of such a thing,_ didn't I? I _do_ have something else."

Daikoku's face fell into a grim mask. "Kofuku… I don't know if it's a good idea to-"

"No, it is! It's a genious scoop, I'm tellin ya!" the woman insisted, climbing back onto the table to escape her husband's advances towards the liquor in her hands.

"Yeah, let her tell us," Yukine agreed, his eyes gleaming.

Daikoku seemed really upset, but… Hiyori wanted to know anything that could help her solve the mystery around the God of Calamity.

"What did you find out, Kofuku-san?" she breathed out.

Kofuku's grin became victorious. "Now, back when I was younger and reckless-er, I used to get myself into _all_ kinds of trouble. Giving my parents a whole ton of headaches! I would be all over the news if Daikoku here wasn't always there to keep me safe!" She paused to blow the man a kiss. "And there was a period I was _suuuuuper_ into illegal cage matches."

Hiyori's heart dropped beyond her stomach.

"Like, I dragged Daikoku across the whooole city to watch people being mean and evil to each other! Anyways, one night around five years ago we went to this place. I don't really remember that well. All of those slums look similar. But what I do remember is this one _marvellous_ fighter," her voice dropped, her face expression wicked. "He was a real monster up there, tearing through his opponents like they were nothing more than worms. The crowd went nuts overhim, screamin' their heads off. I thought he looked like death incarnated."

 _It really does sound like..._

Yukine's voice trembled as he spoke: "And that was Yato?"

Kofuku shrugged. "I don't know. His stage name sure as heck wasn't Yato or God of Calamity. And all participants were required to wear those weird masks, so his face wasn't visible, either. All I know is that a few months later Kazuma appeared in Hafuri with Yato in tow, begging Bishamon to take him in, and then..."

And then she saw him fight. She must've attended at least _one_ of his matches in all those years and connected the dots.

Could Yato really be a…

"Butbut!" Kofuku's cheerful tone returned. "You gotta know, I wouldn't say any of this if not for the rest of the story! I've never asked Yato about it. I _did_ pester Kazuma for some time until he gave in." She poked Hiyori's nose and giggled. "Turns out I just had to say I'll go to Bisha. It's _the_ golden word when it comes to cute ol' Kazu-chan! He told me Yato helped him out with some private business and needed a place to crash for a while. He said it was the least he could've done for somebody who did what Yato had done for him! So I believe that Yatty is someone who needs to be convinced to open up, but is a good boy in the end!"

Hiyori now went back to Yato's photo next to a crime case, observing it in a completely new light. There was no doubt with what did Yato help Kazuma. The question still remained… how?

"Whoa," Yukine whistled, leaning out of the tense pose he occupied for the past few minutes. "He sounds like a really messy guy."

"He's a good boy," Kofuku repeated. "Well, that's all I know. Now that you heard it, let's collect my payment!" She picked up a bottle from the table and pointed it at Hiyori as if it was a mic. "What makes _you_ stick around Yato, Hiyorin? And please be as clear as you can, I wanna get something goood out of this!"

She was still under the impression of the woman's story, but the answer to that question was prepared and well rehearsed for weeks now: "I need him. I need his help in achieving my dreams."

Kofuku's grin broadened. "Which are…?"

"To break into the MMA world, of course. I'm not a bad fighter, but I'll have to be much better if I want to become a winner. And I believe Yato's style would be able to get me there."

The woman's eyelashes fluttered rapidly. "Aaaand..."

"And… That's it."

"Is it?"

"Yes." Hiyori hoped no emotion that would give her away appeared on her face.

She never thought the tiny young woman with a bouquet of locks dyed pink could be intimidating, but as Kofuku continued to grin above her, a green bottle in hand, she considered changing her opinion.

...Scary in a completely new way.

Hiyori got up and took a few steps away from the table. "I-I'll go and check up on Yato."

Kofuku jumped up, letting out a loud whoop. Hiyori caught a glimpse of Daikoku finally getting her off the table before running up the stairs into the direction of the attic.

Once up there, she knocked lightly onto the thin door at the end of the stairwell. Having received no answer, she opened the door as silently as she could and peeked in.

She expected some kind of a bedroom. What greeted her was a fully furnished apartment- small, even smaller than hers, but with a kitchen, a door she supposed led to the bathroom, a TV, a table and a single futon occupied by a form entangled into sheets even though the moonlit room was still warm from the sunny daytime.

Hiyori needed some quiet time to think. She leaned on the doorway, her eyes resting on what was supposed to be Yato's head.

What would Yukine make of all of this? Hiyori knew he looked Yato up on the internet some time ago. She still wasn't sure to what extend did he understand what kind of a genius Yato was. Or just how big the chances were that Kofuku-san was right, and Yato was...

Yato was something - someone - she was warned about from the first day of her training. Someone her mother feared she would have to deal with and thus spent every day trying to convince her to give up on her dreams. MMA was a dangerous sport even in controlled environment. People, her family included, frowned down upon it as something primitive and cruel. She couldn't really say they were completely wrong about the _cruel_ part, but what separated it from those dirty fistfights was a set of rules and the amount of time one had to invest into proper, honorable training. True, some other students she knew had a need to experiment, but she herself never wanted to have anything to do with illegal fights.

The longer she thought about it… Yato never showed those interests. Whenever they would talk about martial arts, he'd give out instructions on how to win. He's discuss fighters with her, he'd ask about her opinions, but would never spend time on pointing out the importance of rules and fair play like her previous trainers had. He even seemed _bitter_ when talking about MMA, she remembered.

Out of all the things she wasn't sure about when it came to this man, this one was somehow the most believable.

And yet, he annoyed her with a new goofy line every day. He made some teenager pay five yen what should've costed a sum a middle-schooler should not be able to afford. He could sleep so carelessly, so soundly. In fact, he hadn't even moved when Hiyori entered the room. He didn't seem to care who might sneak into his room while he was unconscious. He didn't even seem to… breathe…

"Yato...?" she whispered.

No answer.

"Yato." She was louder this time.

Not a twitch from him.

Hiyori marched over to the futon on the floor and carefully tried to turn it over. It sprawled open completely, its overstuffed contents revealing nothing but a single sheet of paper that floated soundlessly to the floor.

She picked it up, her hands trembling.

 _Lol Mom I'm just fine (w)d you nosy old man_

 ***** **~A/N**

 **I don't know about you guys, but for me, this was the part** __ **I was looking forward to the most: Hiyori kicking some ass.**

 **Shoutout to Meta-Akira for having her theory confirmed! Or is it? Well, we just don't know...**

 **Hope you enjoyed, and see you next time!**

 **-Jo**


	6. Then, We Shall Dance

**Then, We Shall Dance**

"There she is! All fixed up and ready to-" Yato stopped in the middle of his leap. "You're _not_ fixed up."

"It's only been a few days, you idiot," Yukine knocked the back of the man's head. "How was she supposed to heal in that amount of time? Of course she'd still be in a sling."

"I don't know, I figured if it was her, it was possible," Yato murmured. "And she should hurry up anyway, since there will be some very interesting training once she gets better!"

Hiyori observed wordlessly. Something inside her regained its motivation to move at the sight of the two boys bickering.

"Well, Hiyori," Yato turned to her again, "why did you come if not to start training again? Did you need something?"

Hiyori flexed her injured shoulder. The stiffness was still there, but the pain mostly disappeared over the past week. After suffering such a defeat, she was eager to jump back into her training routine to make sure the next meeting with Aiha ends in victory.

It wasn't the only inspiration to return, though. The first day, she didn't move from the floor and spent the time rereading some of her favorite magazines and watching TV. The third day, she went to restock her groceries cabinet. She made a four-course lunch and a dinner she ate as the next few dinners, too. The fourth day - She managed to clean her apartment from top to bottom.

The fifth day she finally dared to face the truth: Hafuri has become a big, irreplaceable part of her life and spending time away from Hall 5 was simply…

"I wanted to see how was Yukine doing," she explained, trying to cool down her increasingly hotter face, "and to see if you're fine after that whole post-tournament show, Yato."

"Show?" Yato's face tensed a bit.

 _Oh_. Well, no wonder he didn't remember. "You were _pretty_ drunk the last time I saw you, you know."

"Ah, I was," he flashed her a reassuring smile. "But don't you worry about _me_! Yukine has something important to ask you, right here, right now!"

"Really?" Hiyori turned her attention to the boy. "What is it, Yukine-kun?"

"I-it's not that important!"

" _Not that important_? You've been jumping up and down on my head for days, pestering me if I knew when would Hiyori return and how you wish she would come soon, and wouldn't even tell me wh-"

Yukine elbowed Yato in the gut. "Okay! You can shut up now!"

Hiyori smiled. She strolled to the nearest bench and sat down, resting her chin on top of her left hand. "I'm here now, and I'm listening. Did you need help with your summer homework again?"

"N-no, that's not it," Yukine stammered, staying on his feet even after Yato dropped on the spot next to Hiyori. "I have - another favor to ask of you."

She waited for him to take a deep breath, composing himself.

"D-do you remember my dad from a few days ago? This was totally his idea and not mine, I had nothing to do with it and tried to tell him it was a bad idea, ok?"

Yato's eyebrows twitched. "Yeah?"

"Okay," Hiyori urged the boy.

"Well, he liked you a lot from that one meeting. He says you seem like a- a pro- promising young woman... or something. There's this one thing coming up I- he'd like you to attend. He thought it would be cool if you came with him to this birthday party of some guy from his work - but it would be really snobby and filled with rich people and super boring. A dinner party. With evening dress clothes and stuff."

Yato puffed: "Sounds like you don't really want her to go."

"No, I want!" Yukine raised his hands in defense. "I-I just thought it would be awkward to ask something l-like that from her. I mean, it's pretty high-class and I'm not sure if a teen would enjoy such things if she absolutely - I want her to come! I really want it-"

"Don't you worry, Yukine-kun," Hiyori interrupted his rambling, "I will come with you."

Yukine opened his mouth as if trying to oppose, but then just nodded. "Okay. Okay. Thank you. Then, next step, Dad says that he can get you something to wear if you don't think - if -" He stomped his foot, irritated.

 _This conversation is making the poor boy terribly uncomfortable._ "I don't need anything, I know how this kind of events work! Don't worry. Just tell me where and when should I meet you," she tried to reassure him.

"Good. Nice. It's tomorrow night, a car will pick you up at the place where you first met him. At eight-thirty. It's all taken care of then, so-"

" _Excuuuuuse me,_ Fancy-kun, but you forgot all about your other date!"

"It's my _dad_ 's request, you idiot!" Yukine's ears burned hot-pink. "And I forgot nothing, I did exactly what I was asked to do."

"What about me? Don't I get to play Cinderella, too?" Yato pointed at himself, pulling a face of innocent distress.

"No! My dad never said anything about bringing an old ex-karate kid with us!"

"Awww, c'mon!" Yato cooed at the boy. "Hiyori said she needed nothing, which leaves a free spot for you to swoop in and do your Fairy Godmother magic! I could use some nice food, too. A dinner party sounds great!"

Yukine stopped to think. "I don't think that's-"

"You _knoooow_ you want me there, kid."

"Fuck y-" He paused. Then, slower and quieter, he worded, "We're going out today. Be ready at five. I'll kick you if you'll be a minute late. And if you even _think_ of getting drunk, I'll-"

"WOOOHOOOO!" Yato jumped in the air and swung his fist. "Team Yato, we're gonna to have ourselves a fancy little party tomorrow!"

"Hiyoooooriii!"

Hiyori tear her eyes from the clock on the opposite side of the street, facing the man hurrying towards her under the lamplights' faint early nighttime glow.

"Sorry, I'd be faster if I was allowed to run in this damn thing," he explained, shuffling along to illustrate his discomfort. The black striped suit he was wearing over a white collared shirt looked refined enough to be tailor-made. His shoes weren't as flashy as the pair Yukine's father wore before, but comparable enough. The outfit was destined to be worn by a rich businessman's son, and it fit him very well. He was right to be afraid of crumpling it before the event. "I hope I'm not too late."

"It's okay, I haven't been waiting for long," she reassured him.

Suddenly, the scene of their first dinner meetup together flashed before her eyes. Tonight would go in a more... _desirable_ way, hopefully.

A sound of a phone ringing sang from Yato's pocket. He made no move to answer it.

"Shouldn't you take that?"

"It's not important. Besides, it would take hours to get off that line, and _I_ have some grander plans for tonight! Is that the car?" Yato asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes at a rapidly approaching vehicle.

A flash of white and the door opened, the driver invisible through the black windows, a voice calling: "Good evening. I was sent on the behalf of Warner-sama. I will be your chauffeur for tonight."

"Warner-sama?" Yato whispered as he bent down to enter the car behind her.

"Yukine-kun's father, I believe," she answered in the same hushed tone. Given their appearance, it didn't surprise her that his family name wasn't Japanese.

"No, I meant…" he raised his hands a bit, " _sama_?"

Hiyori smoothed down her dress, careful to keep clear of any wrinkles she might earn from the leather seats. "He sent a _chauffeur_ to get us, Yato."

Yato stayed silent. He stared out of the window absentmindedly, rubbing the fabric of his sleeve between his fingers. Hiyori wondered if the enthusiasm he showed about accompanying her and Yukine started turning into anxiety because of the suit, or the car, or the chauffeur, or the _sama._ Probably all of them played a certain part - she didn't mean to sound conceited, but she doubted Yato had any chances to attend matters such as this before.

Especially if…

She beat down the rush of nervousness rising from her stomach. _Tonight is about Yukine-kun, and pulling through this confusing play without anyone noticing._

She got better at lying these past few months. The realization tasted bittersweet.

The lights of the city dimmed more and more as they crossed a bridge leading towards a forest of greens. The growing darkness outside made it hard for her to be sure, but Hiyori recalled visits paid to one of her mother's academy friends in a neighbourhood similar to this one.

At last, they drove up a driveway lined by hedges and stopped in front of a mansion illuminated from the inside by soft yellow lights. Parts of the white walls were hidden behind curtains of ornamental ivy, it's white flowers filling the air with a syrupy smell.

"I've alerted Warner-sama about your arrival," the driver announced, not turning around to look at them. "He will be with you shortly, so please enter the main hall and wait for him by the door. When you decide it's time for you to return, I will be waiting for you here."

With a few _Thank you_ s, the two stepped out of the car and started climbing the stairs leading to the opened entrance.

"Yato!" Careful not to slip on her heels, Hiyori hurried to catch up to him. "What are you going to tell Yukine's fathe- Warner-san when he wonders why are you here? We'll need to have matching stories, because-"

"Yukine's already explained everything!" Yato waved at her. "I have more important stuff to discuss before we meet up with the guy. I wanna work on our strategy for tonight."

"Strategy?"

" _Divide et impera,_ Hiyori. You take the old man. I get Yukine. I wanna know why have we been invited."

"You mean, why have _I_ been in-" The tip of her shoe clicked against the stone.

"Whoops!" Yato caught her arm before she hit the ground. "Good thing I was _kindly invited_ to accompany you, huh?"

"Thank you," she muttered.

They climbed the rest of the steps. The foyer wasn't much impressive - a stairwell, a hallway leading to the kitchen (judging by the amount of attendants striding around) and a white door on the opposite side. As directed by a butler standing next to the entrance, they continued through them and crossed into a bright, air-conditioned parlour.

 _Dinner party_ might have been a slight misunderstanding. While there were trays of food travelling around the room and a buffet spreading down one wall, Hiyori didn't expect this amount of _socializing_ \- people standing up, a few resting on couches, some swaying around the band playing instrumental music in the corner. They were all dressed up in a manner similar to her and Yato's - evening dresses, expensive ties, and a few traditional robes peeking out here and there, ready for making a new friend or a great deal. Two MMA fighters suddenly seemed all wrong and out of place.

"This is a private business meetup," Hiyori breathed out. Keeping up with her play will be more difficult now.

Yato didn't seem phased by this revelation. He reached towards the nearest tray of drinks and snached a glass of champagne, passing it to her with a pensive : "Better get down to business, then."

She watched the bubbles inside the glass speeding to the surface.

Right at that moment, a familiar voice boomed behind them: "There you are!"

A welcoming smile on his face and his son at his heels, Yukine's father appeared next to her. "I am glad you've managed to come, Yamaguchi-san."

Taken aback by the appellation, Hiyori stammered. She felt something pinching her side behind the ruffles of her skirt- Yukine's warning gaze met hers. "Ah! Yes, yes I did manage, Warner-san. I am very grateful you have invited me to this..." she gestured with her arm, too late realizing she was drawing his attention to the glass in her hand.

" _That_ would be mine," Yato spoke and elegantly swiped it away from her. "Yamaguchi-san was kind enough to help me hold my drink for a few seconds."

"Ah," Yukine's father nodded in satisfaction, "I see you've already made some acquaintances! I was just about to..." He did a double take on Yato. "Excuse me, but do I know you?"

"I highly doubt it," Yato replied, taking a sip, "I wouldn't forget a man such as you that easily."

The older man stiffened. He used one hand to push back his already perfectly styled blonde hair before turning back to Hiyori. "Shall we take a walk to the buffet? I believe you're curious about what could a party such as this offer?"

She really wasn't, but...

"I agree, Yamaguchi-san," Yato offered her a charming smile behind the glass, "and when the two of you are done, I'd like to talk you some more."

That must've been the signal to separate the family.

"I'd be glad to search for you afterwards," she answered, feeling foolish, and left the two boys alone.

After they got out of their earshot, Yukine's father spoke again in a teasing tone: "That young man seems to be quite interested, doesn't he?"

 _How should I answer something like_ this _?_ She did her best to giggle .

"Well, I do not blame him," the man continued, "you used my son's shopping trip exquisitely. You look stunning!"

Hiyori patted her dress. It was delivered to her by Yama-chan earlier that day - a swirl of fine pink silk spilling down to her shins combined with the illusion-style top and pulled close to her waist by a thin white ribbon. The two managed to shape her hair in an elegant bun and put in a few sparkly accessories to look salon-made, fearing she'll be discovered if done sloppily. She wasn't thinking straight earlier when she offered to take care of her appearance on her own- she just wanted to calm Yukine down.

But if Warner-san didn't notice his tab was longer by a suit instead of a dress, then...

"Oh, no," she looked down shyly. I _'ll play it._

"You do! I must ask, _where_ did you find such a wonderful creation?"

 _It was custom-made for my eighteenth birthday._ "Um, I'm not sure… we visited a lot of beautiful shops yesterday, I couldn't even count them all!"

The words resounded positively with him, judging by his laugh. "I can't blame you, Yamaguchi-san. I am very sorry about your arm, though. What happened?"

Hiyori tightened the shawl around her shoulders, which was keeping the sling half-hidden behind the soft fabric. "It was an accident. I slipped while running and hit the ground awkwardly."

"No!" He shook his head sadly. "That's too bad. How are you going to keep up with the training? Could your scholarship be endangered now?"

 _There we go._

"It's just a minor injury. I'll be back in the game in a few days," she replied, her thoughts racing to get the talk away from her "interests". "What about Yukine-kun? Did he say anything more about our… meeting for school purposes?"

Yukine's father took a deep sight. "Ah, that boy. I've expected he'd finally accept my suggestion to enroll in your school next spring and continue his baseball training. I believe you're aware of his star status in his current team?"

She wasn't aware of that. "Of course, I played with him only a bit, but he was excellent!"

"And yet he still said nothing more about making a future of that direction. He's moody, he's sad, and continues to get into trouble with the school and his peers. He's been getting better lately, though, and so the same goes for our family!" For a second his eyes gleamed with gratitude, but darkened again as he stopped in his track. "But… I'm not sure if I should relax just yet. He's been like that ever since the death of his mother."

Hiyori's knees shook under the weight of the statement. _Yukine's..._

"I've met his mother during one of my business trips to Tokyo," he continued, "and I have never again felt the desire to leave this country. I had no friends here, only business partners - she was my whole world and, later, Yukine's. We were such a close family. Now there's only the two of us left. We have to stick together, keep our family stable, even when it's hard. After all, family is the most important part of any man's life, and we should fight for it no matter the obstacles."

Hiyori stared at the man's shoes. She couldn't bring herself to look anywhere else.

"He's a smart, talented child and I am so proud of him. But in some ways…" the man laughed sadly. "For instance, even now he's lurking behind the curtains rather than talking his way into some higher circles. This is my boss' birthday celebration, the room is filled with people of unimaginable power and influence. Choosing the right steps might take you higher than you've ever imagined!"

"I-I believe it might," she answered absentmindedly.

"We might even find some sports scouts!"

Hiyori winced back into reality. "What? No, it's really not nec-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Yamaguchi-san!" The smile returned back to his voice, though the sadness lingered in his eyes. "There could be no harm in introducing you to some agencies before you graduate! I happen to know this great-"

"No, really!" What if somebody decides to _actually_ ask her about baseball? She had no deeper knowledge of it except vague memories of school-taught rules. Heck, she didn't even know which school was she supposed to play for! Keeping her identity a secret in a place such as this was in the top of her current priorities list, and such a conversation would send her right off the deep end.

Thankfully, she noticed a familiar form a few meters away.

"Wait - could that be him?" she turned to her left and pointed to a random point in the distance.

Warner-san turned and stretched his neck. "Weird. I could have sworn I've seen him next to the salad bar earlier..."

Hiyori stepped behind him and punched Yato's arm to get his attention, mouthing _Ask me now._

"What the f-Yamaguchi-san!" His pout was replaced by a bright smile in an instant. "What a coincidence! I was just about to go looking for you! Are you free now?"

"Ah, what a surprise!" Hiyori put her fingers in front of her lips. "Warner-san, would it be a problem if we meet up again later?"

The man stopped his search for the fictional scout to give Yato a disappointed look. But when his eyes slid to Hiyori's (hopefully convincingly) excited face, it softened. "Of course, Yamaguchi-san. Just don't forget to call me when you're ready!"

The two thanked him and started making their way through the crowd.

"Has anyone ever told you," Yato whispered in a deep voice as he took her free arm and directed her to the band corner, "you are a _terrible_ actress?"

Vexing.

"Unlike you, _I'm_ not used to deceiving people!" she replied through a fake smile. "And you were the one who gave an alcoholic drink to a high-schooler!"

"It was to express my point more vividly. You could stand to try to do the same."

"Well, I really dislike this situation. I am no baseball player, I'm a _mixed martial arts fighter._ "

"Hey, nobody's saying anything about it right now!" He yanked her by the arm slightly to slow down. "Shall we?"

It took Hiyori a beat to understand what was he implying. She observed the scene in front of them. Sometime during her conversation with Yukine's father, some people started sliding over the floor in front of the stage in a medium-speed, easy to follow dance. Less suspicious than just standing around grimly. Definitely more convenient to talk.

She nodded. "We shall."

Yato mirrored her nod and followed her. Since one of her shoulders wasn't in any shape to be moved, they settled for his arm securing her waist and the other supporting her hand. Hiyori tried to recall the movements she learned while standing on her father's feet and prepared to pull them in to join the other couples when Yato surprised her and took the lead himself.

"Okay, what did you gather?" Yato asked as they finished their first circle around the floor.

"Well, he still believes I'm a successful sports scholarship student," she replied, "and he called me the wrong name. I think he mistook me for someone. "

"No way he thinks you're anybody else. He couldn't. He remembered other stuff, right?"

"He seems to be really close to his family, too. They've had some problems, still do. I'm sure his father's talking about Yukine's… you know."

"What makes you think that?"

"He said he's been getting better. Ever since Yukine started attending your classes, he hasn't earned a single injury, right? His father must've noticed _that_ , so he's surely happy, too!"

"If he were my kid and I thought he was being bullied, I'd punch a few holes through those punk assholes' faces," Yato muttered. Then, calmly, "Did you notice anything else?"

Hiyori skimmed through her conversation with Yukine's father. She wasn't sure how much should she tell Yato - some parts seemed too personal, too vulnerable to expose to a stranger like it's nothing. "Well, maybe if you told me the whole story, I'd know what should I be looking for?"

Yato narrowed his eyes slightly at the subtle change in her voice, as if trying to decide what exactly did it mean. For a second she hoped he'd catch on the subtext, that she wouldn't have to form the questions herself. Hopeless, she knew, yet still couldn't help it.

"I don't think Yukine would ever allow me to come with you if he didn't think it was going against his wishes," he admitted finally. "Whether or not he's aware of it, I think he wants us to see something. Both of us."

Hiyori thought about it. Somehow it was both convincing and ridiculous- while Yukine was the secretive type, just what were they supposed to see on a party such as this, when neither he nor his father were the ones in the spotlight? But Yato... From the very beginning, he seemed to have a deeper understanding of the boy than she did.

But it wasn't enough to convince her, not with all the unknown deepening the chasm between them.

"Well, I know what his father wants." She let him spin her before continuing: "He wants to show us - me - that Yukine's got good ties in the higher society branches."

"No objections there," Yato agreed. "Yukine told me he wanted to make sure he remembered your name correctly before he met you today. He took the chance to fix your slip up and give him a fake one. You really _are_ bad at deception, aren't you? The point is, the guy really wanted to be on your good side."

"Why Yamaguchi?"

He chuckled. "Maybe because he's heard you saying it a lot.*"

Hiyori's cheeks warmed up. "I can't be as smooth as you even if I tried. I do not take pride in lies. What did Yukine-kun even tell you to play, anyway?"

"Oh, he told me I'll play the role of the brother he went to the school with. I was supposed to be his senpai, but I still doubt I'd be able to play a teen as easily as you do."

"Good." She took another breath. "I'm not sure why is Warner-san doing it, though. And, maybe that society status was what Yukine tried to show us, too?"

Yato's face turned to shock. "Hiyori! Don't you think Yukine could simply _tell_ us something as shallow as that? He didn't try to hide it. Remember how he offered me any amount of cash i could ask for the teaching?"

"Uh. I suppose. But you know what else it might be, don't you, Yato?"

For once, he seemed to be the one confused.

She knew she hit home. She knew it. Yato _was_ keeping something from her. _Something_ else, _that is._

"I… I don't know… yet. I have my doubts," he started, sending them to the edge of the dance floor in one sophisticated sweep. "It's not the kind of thing I could simply shout from the rooftops if I wasn't a hundred percent sure. That's why I wanted a second POV confirmation before announcing it to everybody."

"You don't have to shout anything from the rooftops, Yato," she tried to keep her voice steady. "It's not _everybody_. It's just me."

His blue eyes shone with uncertainty as they came to a halt when the song ended. Hiyori's whole body slightly shook with something between fear and excitement. She stood with his arms still around her waist, wondering if mere words were enough to undo whatever made him keep silent around people, wondering _what_ made him silent in the first place.

A few people left the dance floor. More joined the dancers as the air refilled with the sound of instruments. One woman accidently bumped into Yato from behind, sending him tumbling into Hiyori.

"Oh! Excuse me, I didn't mean any harm!"

Hiyori's breath froze at the sound of the apology.

"N-no problem," Yato straightened himself, talking to the woman hidden behind his back. "We're okay."

 _How is this possible?_

"Y-yato!" Hiyori breathed, "I'm going to the bathroom! I-i'll be ba- back in a bit."

"Uhh… okay?" Yato blinked, vulnerability slowly disappearing from his features. "I'll go- go find Yukine. Wanna grab something to eat later?"

But Hiyori was already hurrying towards the door, her head bowed. She stormed past the Warner's, hoping Yato would explain them where she went - she had no time to spare.

She didn't stop until she found herself sitting on the toilet seat of a tiny powder room somewhere at the first floor of the mansion, her head resting against the cool tiles of the wall.

Why were they here? How? What if she didn't notice them in time? What if they saw her - what if they saw her _arm_ , resting against her chest in a sling? How was she supposed to return back to that hall?

If seen, how was she supposed to return _home_?

She expected _some_ problems to arise tonight, but none of this magnitude.

Hiyori tried to steady her breathing, reaching towards the sink to let the water run over her fingers. She thought of spraying some over her face, but remembered she was, unfortunately, wearing makeup, because she was…

She tried to recall what she knew about the party. Warner-san mentioned his boss, but didn't mentioned what was his career path. It didn't matter, Hiyori concluded - there were sport scouts present, too, as well as young rich people such as Yato pretended to be. Her father had connections all over the city - it was impossible to decide on the reason they were invited tonight.

She raised herself on her knees on top of the toilet, turning to face the window. It overlooked the back of the house, a semi-circle of light shining from the terrace sprinkled with more jewelry-adorned women and smoking men. Some strolled into the woods stretching behind the paths, bridges and hedges of the garden. She remembered being a child running across similiar yards, her pretty shoes stained green. Her mother would often scold her afterwards, her father winking at his daughter behind his wife's back and mouthing: _I know_.

Soon, they stopped forcing her to accompany them to fundraisers and birthdays. Her parents understood when she called quits. They trusted her. Just as well as they have given her a chance to-

 _It doesn't matter_ , she reminded herself. What mattered right then was to find a way to contact Yato and convince him to disappear as fast as they could.

As if on cue, she noticed a man drifting down the terrace, turning around as if searching for someone.

Jumping up, Hiyori tried to pry open the window to send Yato some kind of a signal uncovering her whereabouts. Sadly, there was no knob or hatch of any kind visible on the frame. She watched him taking out his cell and typing something in, then bringing it to his ear.

If only she'd brought her cellphone with her…

 _Wait_.

He's probably exited the hall to answer the phone. This could be her chance to catch up to him.

Hiyori unbuckled her shoes, stuck her head into the hallway to see if anybody was around, then ran down the stairwell, out of the house and around the back, staying in the shadows of the ivy leaves.

"... now? Are you sure?"

She was close enough to hear traces of his silent voice, but she wasn't face her so she couldn't-

"Fuck you. I'm coming."

He flipped the phone shut. A group of people passed him, laughing. After a few seconds, he joined them as if he was there the whole time, following them towards the darkness of the trees.

It took Hiyori about a minute to decide to put her shawl over her head and follow after Yato's loud cover, her bare feet soundless in the dark.

* en. wiki/Mei_Yamaguchi

 **AN:**

 **Sorry.**

 **Thanks to Meta-Akira, Grumpycat503, Wangz and Nagikae for encouraging words~**

 **(Also what I should have mentioned before: I have no practical knowledge of any kind of martial arts. All I know is what internet and MMA footage showed me. If you have more experience and find some problems, additional info is appreciated!)**


	7. Nightfall and Daylight

**Nightfall and Daylight**

The sounds of cars racing down the nearest street and stray cats fighting over a piece of discarded fried fish were surrounding a house tucked away behind more impressive parks and shops of the city. In one of the short trees planted in front of it Hiyori had set her watchtower, carefully balancing on top of her knees to keep her skirt from dirtying.

For the who-knows-what time in the last three hours, she had been gazing up at the building. The walls loomed high above her, dark and menacing in the absence of streetlights. It looked abandoned, but there was no way to tell for sure - there wasn't a single window visible that could indicate if there was anybody present in there.

Well, she knew for sure _one_ person was inside - and it was no other but her very own MMA hero/trainer/annoyance, the God of Calamity, Yato.

He disappeared inside what seemed like ages ago. At first Hiyori contemplated going in after him herself, but she figured an evening dress and matching jewelry weren't the best outfit choice for a dangerous sneak-in such as this might turn out to be. She settled for the next best thing - waiting for Yato to reappear and catch him red-handed.

She shuddered. _Not a good choice of expression._

She prayed no red hands would be involved in this particular meeting.

Her fingers were playing with a small blue object - Yato's flip cell phone. It was left behind by him in front of the building. She wasn't sure if he had left it there on purpose or dropped it by accident, so she took it with her before choosing which tree would be the most appropriate for her intentions.

Of course, there was another intention having to do with Yato's cell. But she was not fully certain on choosing whether to go through with it or not.

It would be a complete and inexcusable invasion of privacy. It would be _creepy_ , at that. Who was she to have the right to browse through his private information?

But it could finally stifle the question burning inside her for so long.

 _But there_ must _be a right way to find out, right?_ This couldn't be the only way to-

The sound of leaves and branches being crunched came from right underneath her, startling her into pulling herself closer to the bark. She slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her breathing.

A man came stumbling into view, his form more dishevelled than it was the last time she saw him.

"Yato!" Hiyori whispered.

"S-" He reacted more violently than she expected - he whirled around, jumping away. "No - H-hiyori I-Yamaguchi? What - why -"

Hiyori nimbly leaped down from her branch, careful not to let the silk get stuck and ripped. "Shouldn't _I_ be the one to - I mean, what are you _doing,_ Yato? Why did you disappear from the party? And have you even told Yukine where you went? Because he's been constantly trying to get you to pick up, your phone buzzes all the time!"

Frozen, Yato stammered: "I've thought you were- god, Hiyori, you scared the fucking _shit_ outta me..."

"Sorry about that! But please, explain yourself."

"Shit, Hiyori… Hiyori..."

His voice sounded fragile, as if he was preparing to… cry? "What's the matter? Are you okay?" Hiyori took a step towards him, trying to make out the lines of his face in the dark, when-

"Oooh… Yato, were you drinking?!"

"A bit of the stuff, yeah," he admitted. The way he stepped around the bushes indicated more than just _a bit of the stuff_ was currently circulating in his body.

"How much did you have?" Hiyori remembered the building. "Wait-Where did you get it? Are you sure it was a secure source? Because if you have _any_ doubts it might have been poisoned or drugged, maybe we should go-"

"Nawnawnaw, don'cha worry 'bout THAT," he leaned even further back from her, almost toppling over a squirrel. "That motherfucker might hate me, but he wouldn't kill me if I pleaded, haha!"

"Wh-" Yato slumped forward and she hurried to catch him. Through a cloud of his usual, nice scent (now mixed with the sour smell of alcohol), she tried again, "Who? Who is he?"

He giggled. "A _motherfucker_." He giggled again as she tightened her grip around him and repositioned his arm so that it wouldn't touch her injured shoulder.

A familiar buzz echoed through the air.

"I-it's your..." Hiyori unclasped her right hand to reveal his phone. "I found it there earlier. So I… do you want to pick up?"

"Nah. Givvit here."

She did as he asked and watched as the phone disappeared inside his pocket.

She had no idea how to take care of a drunk person. None of the people inside her circle had ever put her into that position - and she had never seen anybody this drunk.

"I'll call a taxi to get us to _Hafuri_. Just walk towards that-"

"No!" his shrill yelp sounded energetic enough to be a sober one.

"Yato, we have to go back to Yukine, it's been hours since we left and-"

"No, I meant - let's talk a wak - take a walk for bit. Y'know. Exercise."

She stomped her foot - how could he be so negligent? "I can't carry you all the way there! It's already getting terribly uncomfortable. Please."

His head hunched. "A few streets? You gotta. You _gotta_ , Hiyori."

"..."

"You gotta you gotta you gotta -"

"Fine! I'll carry you a few streets! But only a few, okay?" She could already feel the heat of embarrassment rising to her face, anyway.

They shuffled along in complete silence aside from Yato's soft hiccups.

"What were you doing, Yato?" she murmured under her breath. There was no way she'd get a clear answer tonight - and pressuring him while he was in such state of intoxication felt too immoral.

"'M sorry."

"Eh?"

Yato's voice was disturbingly soft as he repeated himself: "I'm very sorry 'bout this. I'm sorry I'm making you uncf - uncomf - feel bad. I'm gonna let go of you as soon as I can, 'kay?"

"I can carry you. It's just that my shoulder is still a bit sensitive."

"Hiyori, don't worry, I'm not gonna-" his foot got caught in one of her bare feet.

Stifling a yelp, she stopped them in place to put her shoes back on. She figured she looked suspicious without them on anyway.

"I don't wanna make you unci - fro - bad. Even though I mayttave been a bit stupid, I never wanted to be like those asses."

Hiyori's heart skipped a beat.

 _Bullseye._

Slowly, she faced him. "Are you talking about… you… I mean, how..."

The man bounced on his feet. "Ain't that hard to guess. It's been jumpin' 'round my head for months and ever since- well, yeah. Sorry."

"N-no need to apologize." Still feeling a bit dizzy, she went back to supporting his body.

"No, but you're always 'ike this - helpin' me and things. Supporting. And tryna make life easier for everyone. You shouldnat be made uncro - frotable when you aren't -"

Hiyori laughed weakly. "Aren't you the one helping _me_? I'm relying on you to teach me the whole time."

"No," his voice snapped back to that collected shrill. "I ain't makin' a thing better for any of you."

"Well, you can be annoying, and a pest, and irritating, but I know you're-"

"Not that. _Fannit_ , Hiyori, I wanna make it that easy. But I did a bunch of shit and - shit!"

His rambling was interrupted when he doubled over and started retching.

"God _da-_ "

She waited until he was done. Then, she carefully helped him up.

"Ouhhh..." his head rested against hers.

Her heart beating loudly, Hiyori hurried to reach the main road a few blocks away. She scouted for the green light of a free cab, relieved when one appeared after only a few seconds, and settled in the back seat. After making sure Yato wouldn't flop over, she finally untied the shawl around her head and set it under his cheek as a pillow. They reached the studio in silence.

According to Yato's instructions, she fished the key out of his pocket and led them inside the attic. She let him struggle to the futon as she went to the kitchen to get some water for him. What more could he need? Perhaps she should ask him how does he usually deal with hangovers. Or even call Daikoku-san? He always seemed to know what to do when his friend went too far...

"That was smart."

"What was?" she asked as she returned to his side and offered him the glass.

He accepted it and pointed it at her head. "The cover thing. The head blanket."

"Oh, it was so that..." ... _my parents wouldn't notice me or my outfit as I tracked you down._

"Good thing. Very smart."

He unfurled it in his arms and waved it so that it settled down on top of her head again. She felt a few more strands of her bun coming undone. "There. It will be okay now."

Hiyori simply nodded. "Just drink the water. You'll be okay."

"And those bastards won't find you," Yato took a sip, "or Yukine," he added as he swallowed again.

Her toes tingled on the cold floor. She wished she had turned on the lights earlier - his weak words continued to scare her even when they weren't whispered in a dark alley. "Yato, how about we continue this conversation in the morning? You aren't feeling well. You seem even worse than the last time."

"I hafta tell it, Hiyori," he protested. The glass wavered in his hand and she reached forward to steady it. "I wasnat drunk after your match."

"You… you weren't?"

"No, I wasn't. I faked so that I could go. There. I had to, Hiyori. I didn't want to leave you behind, but I _had_ to go."

Hiyori recalled that night. The following morning she snuck into Yato's room again - he had been lying as if he hadn't moved since they left him.

"I left Daikoku a message. So he probably didn't tell you other guys. But yeah."

The note suddenly made way more sense than before.

But one thing still...

"Yato… don't take this the wrong way, but… why are you telling me this?"

Yato's brilliant blue eyes found hers. Despite the drunken fog, they still glistened as bright as a glacier in the sunlight, almost making her forget her decision.

"Aaaah..." he was the first to break away, throwing his face into his hand. "You really _do_ make me..."

"Sleep," she found her voice again. "You'll tell me in the morning, if you'll still want to."

"Doncha understand," he grumbled as she helped him get out of his jacket, "that's the _problem._ "

However, Hiyori didn't let him talk anymore. She was sure now - whatever he hid inside of him, whatever it was that bothered her, it could wait until he was conscious enough to actually _remember_ trusting her enough to confess to her.

She could still see his cell peeking out from the pocket of his jacket.

Once outside, resting her forehead on the door, she finally let herself exhale. Her feet felt like lead. There were only a few hours left until sunrise, but too many for her to feel comfortable going home. She'd take out one of the mats and blankets they used for the sleepover the last time and have a wonderful rest after such eventful night.

Or at least that was what she thought before turning around and facing a scene she'd desperately hoped she'd never have to see again.

The sound of the door squeaking open sounded around 10 AM. Due to the lack of sleep, Hiyori almost slipped and fell down in her hurry to reach the top of the stairs.

"Yato, how are you feeling?"

"Ah!"

The two collided, Hiyori almost being sent down the stairs again. Yato grabbed the door frame. "H-hiyori! You're still here? What… Why..."

Hiyori waved her hand. "I've slept downstairs. Are you feeling okay?"

"Quite good, actually. Do I look the part?" he yawned. He still wore his dress shirt and trousers. His hair looked the same as the room around him: a mess. Nevertheless, his gaze was steady, a bit sleepy at worse.

"Way better than you should, all things considering," Hiyori agreed.

He twitched. "Um… yeah, about last night, I-I don't really remember what-"

She waved again. "Please, save it for later, we have a… problem."

"Listening!" he took a few steps down.

"Wait!" Hiyori lurched forward and stopped him by his shoulder. "I… Try to keep it together when I tell you this, okay?" She took a deep breath. "Last night… you know how Yukine's been trying to get through to you? I've… I thought I shouldn't answer your phone, and you were too drunk, so it was left alone?"

Yato stiffened. "Where is he?" he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion Hiyori feared to name.

She gulped. "Downstairs. He arrived right after us. He refused to tell me anything, insisted he just wanted a place to stay for the night. After I suggested we go and get help, he resisted with all he had, and I had to leave it. After he calmed down, I've tried to get him to talk, to explain what happened, but… I couldn't…"

Suddenly, the man lurched in the direction of the gym, grabbing her hand on the way. Even though she knew what awaited them, she let him pull her down the hallway, through the door, to the corner in which a child's form rested on top of a pile of mats.

"Y-yukine-kun…?"

The boy slowly turned to the entry.

Hiyori felt Yato's hand dropping back to his side."Fucking shit."

Yukine's blackened eye twitched at the sound of the curse. Hiyori patched up most of the cuts before they had settled down for sleep, but a mask of shading bruises still peeked out under layers of gauze. The sleeves of his brown, once crisp and perfectly pressed brown suit were pulled up and his feet bare, the darkened flesh covered in scratch marks as if somebody was too keen on keeping him from escaping them.

"I second that," he whispered.

"We're all here now, Yukine-kun. Please."

Yukine mirrored Yato's still demeanor. "I… thank you for the help, Hiyori."

The limp of his words forced tears to Hiyori's eyes. "Don't even mention it, Yukine-kun! Have you been attacked by those bullies again? Why would you go out in the middle of the night?"

As if in a trance, he shook his head. "I… I was worried where you two went… and..."

His voice trailed off, so Hiyori prompted: "And you tried to call Yato's phone?"

"Yes… I mean, not yet."

"Don't say you've been following us and got into trouble?" She was already going mad with worry.

"Um… yes. Kinda."

She felt her stomach dropping to her feet. All alone….Sneaking around in the dark… "How? Did somebody try to rob you?"

Again, he failed to answer. She neared the mat and crouched down, trying to figure out if his wounds hurt him too much for him to speak.

"What did the attacker look like?"

Silence.

"When did it happen, then? Were you trying to get us to help you? When did you try calling Yato?"

"I had… I had a fight with my dad. I've tried to get back home by myself, but..."

"Presumably after his father stopped trying to beat the soul outta him."

Although as gentle as feathers, it felt as if Yato's words were a heavy, sharp arrow that pierced the air and struck right in the centre of Yukine's chest. The boy doubled over, letting out a terrifying, strangled cry, setting Hiyori flying back on the floor.

"Y-yato!"

But Yato was completely unfazed. His fists shook from the force of his grip. What has gotten into him?

And Yukine…

Yukine's narrow shoulders started quaking.

"I..." the voice coming out of the form was unnaturally strangled, strained, "I… I can't..."

"That ass," Yato continued, "can't reach you here."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING _DARE_ IMPLY I'M AFRAID OF HIM!"

The aura around Yukine exploded with an outburst of anger, the boy steady on his feet on top of his makeshift bed. His face was now uncovered and twisted into an expression Hiyori never thought a child's face could form.

"IT'S ALL A PART OF LIFE. WE FIGHT, I GET MAD, HE GETS MAD, WE MAKE PEACE, WE _SHUT UP ABOUT IT._ IT _COMES_ WITH BEING A FAMILY THAT MATTERS - YOU CAN'T AFFORD SHIT LIKE THAT TO STAND BETWEEN YOU! NOT THAT A FUCKING REJECT THAT USED TO EARN HIS BREAD BY _BEATING THE SHIT_ OUT OF PEOPLE COULD EVEN _BEGIN_ TO UNDERSTAND, THOUGH- BUT DON'T YOU DARE IMPLY I'M- I'M-"

"Yukine-kun, please..." Hiyori didn't try to touch him, but edged closer to him, raising her arms. "Please calm down. I'm not- I'm not sure I can say I understand what's going on, but-"

"Of-fucking- _course_ you can't, Hiyori." Even though he decreased his volume, his voice still dripped poison. " _None_ of you do. It's impossible to understand it if you aren't living it. When you're stuck with someone and that someone has a reputation to uphold, you can't really run around bitching about every little detail about your personal problems, y'know?"

"But this isn't any little detail, Yukine-kun!" _How was this possible..._

"That makes it even _worse_." He crouched low, his fingers scratching at his head. "Do you know what would happen - are you _aware_ what would happen if anybody - I fucking _swear_ , if any of you even dare to _whisper_ one _thing-_ "

A pair of hands grabbed Yukine's wrists, stopping them from messing up his hair even further.

"We can't do a thing, Yukine," Yato whispered. "I can't. Hiyori can't. Not if you don't give us your permission. But that also means _you're_ the only one who gets to choose how it's gonna be."

"You are able to choose how would this go down. We'll act on your next word. If you choose to lie to us, we'll never know that what we heard wasn't the truth."

Yukine's head snapped upwards, his face streaked with angry tears. The blackness of injuries stretched around the drops and under the collar of the expensive shirt colored to match his eyes.

"You'd know _all_ about lying, wouldn't you."

Hiyori could only watch Yato's hands starting to shake, letting go of the boy.

"Who even… told you?"

 _This isn't working_. They were only fighting between them, shooting too far, and if one of them didn't collect their wits they wouldn't be able to solve anyth-

"Doesn't matter now, does it," Yato let out an unhappy chuckle and shook his head. "Look, kid I did bad things. I can't deny that."

Yukine and Hiyori blinked in unison.

"You… aren't you… ashamed to talk like that?" Yukine asked, uncertain.

Yato lowered himself to the ground a bit distant from Hiyori, and shrugged. "'Course I am. I was an asshole. I've made a lot of people bleed because I got some spare change afterwards and because it was the _easiest_ way to go. But then a chance to get away appeared. Some other guys did something even _worse_ then what I did, and I helped out some important people to catch them."

"Wait, what?"

"I… one of the men I met back then… he killed somebody."

"WHAT?!" Yukine yelped. "I had no idea illegal fighting was that… that..."

"Well, it is. All kinds of people flocking there. I've seen my fair share of the world, and one rule applied everywhere - The more dangerous you were, the bigger the chances you grabbed the grand prize in the end. And I won't even mention the crowd _enjoying_ that kind of stuff. Having a lunatic in there..." Yato scratched the back of his neck, "... not that unusual."

"And you ratted him out."

"Yep! And I ain't sorry one bit! I might've done some dirty work before, but I've always _hated_ it from the depths of my soul. I was stuck until that one good deed turned out to be my ticket outta there, and I've been working at _Hafuri_ ever since."

Hiyori leaned back. She fanned one hand in front of her face, trying to calm down. That was probably the reason Bishamon-sama was so suspicious of him, too. If he was involved with a murder _and_ illegal jobs before, no wonder she would keep an eye on him when he was so close to her students.

And it explained his hidden paranoia. _And those bastards won't find you or Yukine._ "T-that's..."

Yato flinched away from her at the sound of her voice.

"Are… you okay?"

"I bet he's ashamed the only person who bothered to endure him had to find out about his bad side," Yukine proposed, "especially if it's a goody-goody such as you."

Hiyori tried to get a better view of Yato's face through the curtain of his bangs. "Are you, Yato?"

She took the lack of reaction as a confirmation.

"Well… I'd be lying if I said it doesn't bother me..."

His back arched.

"... but I've feared worse things when it came to you before, so I'm kind of glad."

He didn't turn, but he seemed a bit more alert now. "You did?"

She nodded. "That's what happens when you let a person fall to ignorance. But I never _really_ believed any of them. I know you can't really be a bad person."

"... How could you possibly know that, Hiyori?"

She opened her mouth, only to find out the answer wasn't coming to her that easily.

 _I trust you?_

 _I_ want _it to be true?_

Trying to make sense of a ball of yarn inside her thoughts, she stated: "I know you've seen through what was going on with Yukine. He was just some child you've met in a back alley, and yet you chose to take him under your wing and help him out. And me - never once did you…" She swallowed through the lump in her throat, "never once did you make me think I would be better off if I wasn't… pursuing this career. My dream."

"Hiyori..."

"I-I'm fine," she rubbed at the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Just… Even after I lost, after I couldn't even make it through preliminaries, you're still so happy to keep teaching me. I've failed you, and you haven't said a word about it. I've never… A person that observant and benevolent… I simply can't bring myself to believe you could be bad."

A sniffle came from Yato's direction.

"He freaked out," Yukine suddenly spoke. His eyes were glued to one spot on the floor. "When you two disappeared, Dad got scared I've told Yato something. And then he remembered Yato talked to you a lot, too. We searched for you for a while… After it became obvious you two weren't coming back, he decided to go home. I've made a random comment about Hiyori, about meeting you today. I think that was what set him off. He… he was sure I betrayed him..." his voice broke. "He knew I'd-"

"Yukine-kun..." she looked over at the poor boy. Her voice shook as she finally forced herself to admit: "I am so sorry. If I picked up the phone earlier… if only I answered your call, I could've-"

"You couldn't have changed anything," Yukine interrupted her. "Not a thing. I'm just happy I've managed to... At least I didn't end up in a fucking hospital again."

Hiyori reached over and pulled the boy into a hug with her left arm, nudging Yato to get closer to them with her cast. She could feel the wetness of Yukine's eyelashes on her shoulder and Yato's arm reluctantly wrapping around her waist and Yukine's shaking head. _We're here for you._

Silence fell over the gym. The three sat together on the floor as they did so many times before, resting from Yato's sets or discussing what to have for dinner. They spent so much time together every day, but… only now she realized, time didn't mean a thing if not used properly. Pretending problems didn't exist solved nothing, and if only the boys opened up a bit earlier… She was to blame, too - she acted no different about her own life, after all, fearing answers, fearing answering.

 _If only I was more courageous._

Long after Yukine fell asleep that night, Hiyori laid on her own mat, watching the car lights racing across the ceiling. The squeal of the hinges didn't surprise her - she's been expecting them for hours now.

Strolling to the staircase, she almost collided with a form moving to their doors. Her gaze was found by a pair of calm irises belonging to a man cradling his bloodied fist in one hand.

"Now we're sure," Yato whispered, careful not to wake up the boy sleeping in the next room, " that disgusting bastard won't mess with him anymore."

She offered to go and get some ice for his fingers.

 **A/N**

 **...Annnnnnd part 2!**

 **Tune in next time for a break.**


	8. Every Happy Family Is

**Every Happy Family is...**

 _Left,_ a voice in his mind yelled.

 _Right,_ another protested.

It was a matter of his reputation. His honor. Everything he worked so hard to uphold. He would _not_ make a mistake here- but the time was already running out- it would soon all be over, and if he couldn't come to a conclusion soon, he'd-

"Hello there, Yato!"

He spun on his toes towards the door, letting out a big exhale. "Hiyori! Thank god! I need your help!"

She set down the training bag she was carrying over her shoulder and nodded, nearing closer to him.

He held two cardboard cutouts between them. "Choose one."

The skin between her eyes rippled slightly, as it did every time confusion crept its way into her face. "Um… The left one?"

"Argh, _damn_ ," he turned them around and squinted. "I was _sure_ the right one was the… Well, the right one."

"Then go with the right one, I suppose?"

"How? How can I choose something wider public finds inferior to another option?"

"W-well, to be completely honest…" she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks darkening slightly, "I don't really… see a difference? I think it wouldn't matter once the wall is painted."

… _What._

" _Hiyori._ " His hands touched her shoulders, turning her to him. "You cannot mean that. How can you not see the difference? Aren't you supposed to be the delicate one?"

"No, not that. Of course I can tell... White Whirl and Pearl Dream apart." She raised one of her hands to his fingers on top of her right shoulder. "I meant, I don't think Yukine is thinking about what shade of color should his room be. You're beating yourself too hard over this whole process, Yato."

He opened his mouth, but when no sound came out, closed them again.

Hiyori's lips curled upward a bit. "I was right, hm?"

He looked away from those knowing brown eyes and huffed. "I don't have a real apartment with separate rooms and… his expectations... I can at least try, y'know?"

"Don't you think that the only thing he expects after moving out of an abusive household is getting a chance at living a normal, peaceful life?"

He stood there a bit longer, feeling the warmth of her fingertips burning on his knuckles, trying to figure out if he should try explaining himself better. "I want… I want to make it..." The words died in his throat, but she nodded as if she heard what he tried to convey.

"You want to make it as easier as possible for him, right? You want him to feel more comfortable staying here in all aspects, and not just because he managed to run away?"

 _Staying here_. After Yato managed to persuade that jerk to let his son get away from home for a few days, those few days turned into a week, two weeks, until one morning Yukine stood up during breakfast and announced he and his idiotic father have come to an agreement. He wouldn't get the police involved if the boy visited school regularly and, most importantly, nobody informed told anybody what exactly went down in the family.

And that was the story of how an old, spoiled bastard sold his only child to a man who beat the shit out of him and bathed in enjoyment over every single drop of blood that escaped his filthy mouth while he was doing so.

"He'll be fine now. If only we could get a professional psychiatrist involved…" Hiyori sighed. "Well, there'll be time. I'm sure we'll figure our way around it out sooner or later."

"Yeah… Time heals all wounds, right?"

Hiyori shrugged.

It was that action that made his eyes veiled by concern see again.

"Hi-hiyori!" he yelped, holding her at arm's length. "Your… You-you're healed!"

"Oh! Yes, yes I am!" she pointed her thumb behind her, towards the training bag slumped against the door. "I was going to ask you if… I mean, I thought we were gonna start..."

"Are you ready?"

He listened to the sound of her breath hitching for just a moment before Hiyori Iki pressed her lips together and nodded. The excitement obvious on her face, the expectation, directed at _him_...

"You are right! Just gimme a sec to-" He ran towards the far door, grabbing a set of training pants and shirt on his way, his heart beating wildly.

 _New beginnings all around_ , his mind whispered as Hiyori's laughter grew fainter after the bathroom door slammed between them.

"IT'S COMING!"

"What? Where?" Yato's head snapped up, the man startled out of his nap by a loud yell originating from the hallway.

"I don't know?" Yukine let go of the punching bag he was holding in place for Hiyori and neared the exit of the hall. "I think it's somebody… running down the hallway?"

Just as the words left his mouth, the door bursted open, a little hurricane of pink and yellow enveloping him and making his loud "ACK?!" get lost in an even louder "YATTY, IT'S COMING!"

"K… Kofuku-san… you're strangling me..." the boy flailed his arms around helplessly, "Where is… Daikoku-san…?"

As if on cue the tall man jumped into the room, throwing his arms around the Kofuku and Yukine wrestling formation - but not to pull them apart.

"Have you heard? Did you hear the news?" he bellowed, a big smile on his face.

Hiyori and Yato swung their heads.

"A BABY!" Kofuku proclaimed, "A BABY-ME-AND -DAIKOKU IS COMING!"

Daikoku let out a thundering laugh and lifted both his wife and horrified Yukine in the air, spinning them around.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Amazing!" Hiyori clapped her hands, feeling a big smile blossoming on her face at the sight of the elated couple. A baby!

"A… baby?" Yato muttered groggily as he got to his feet, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yes, a baby!" Daikoku set down the two, but keeping his arms around them. "As in, our child! As in, we made a human! My wife and I, we-"

"Pshhh! Mind your mouth, there are children listening!"

"Shuddup, old man," Yukine stammered out. "Daikoku-san… Kofuku-san… could you maybe…?"

With apologies, he was finally freed, the boy's slightly crooked grin matching the couple's.

Suddenly, Yato froze. "Wait… you're _pregnant_?! Holy-"

With a scream of a very profane congratulation, he propelled himself into Kofuku's arms, her feet leaving the floor from the force.

"Now you gotta hurry up, Yatty," she chirped, "and find a wife soon so that our kids can marry each other like we've always planned!"

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault," he let out a sad sigh and pointed with his thumb. "I keep waiting for Hiyori to propose, but she sure is taking her sweet time..."

Daikoku and Kofuku exploded into another round of laughter, making Hiyori's face burn.

"I-I would definitely _n-never_ -" she stammered, her words making Yato's face hang into a sad grimace, the couple's laughter even stronger and Yukine chuckle.

The men went to get a bottle of sake, five glasses and a tetrapak of orange juice ("Daikoku, Daikoku, let's do the thing!" "Oh, right - Yato, ask her if she wants any sake." "Kofuku, do you want any-" " _NO, BECAUSE WE'RE PREGNANT!_ ") to propose a toast. Hiyori wrapped a towel around herself and moved to congratulate Kofuku once again.

"Hiyorin!" the woman pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping both her arms and legs around her body.

Hiyori stepped back, balancing out their weight, her laughter unstoppable. "I am so happy for you two! This is simply amazing!"

"Oh, Hiyorin..." the woman's voice suddenly changed.

Panicked, Hiyori stilled. "K-kofuku-san?"

"I-I'm okay," she blinked rapidly, chasing the tears away. "I'm just so glad… I am so glad we can share this with Yatty and Yuki and you!"

"We're glad, too, don't worry!"

"No, I meant..." Kofuku turned her head towards the three setting up a small table, "it's been years, and we were afraid... But we said, _Maybe that's how it was supposed to be, maybe we're needed somewhere else, maybe it's not the right time._ But we've always had each other, you know? At one point I suggested maybe Yato was the kid who needed us. It was even kind of similar- those first few months when he arrived, that was hard."

Hiyori chuckled at the image. Daikoku's constant fuss over Yato didn't seem to have changed a bit in all that time.

"But now we finally have a chance at it. And Yato now has you two, too. It's just perfect, really! A dream come true! I've never been happier ," her eyes drifted to her husband's face, glowing with pride "and I've never seen him so happy before, either."

"I am sure you two are going to be great parents," Hiyori whispered.

Kofuku's grin instantly returned to her face. "Waaaaaaah, Hiyoriiiin! Now I'm sure, I really want us to become grannies to the same baby!"

She was saved from responding to that by Yukine calling them to get their glasses. Kofuku jumped down from her arms and climbed into her husband's as Yato started a toast which proved to last just enough for him to burst into tears identical to Daikoku's and for Hiyori's heart to slow down into its usual tempo.

Yukine hurried down the corridor, stuffing a bottle into his backpack and struggling to zip it. Irritated with the apparently impossible task, he stomped into the elevator and rested his forehead against the mirror wall.

That guy was just unbelievable. Simply _unbelievable._

"Why the _fuck_ does Hiyori even bother with you?" he asked out loud.

"Huuh..."

Yukine's heart punched his ribcage at the sound of another voice. There was a young girl standing at the entrance of the elevator, her face growing exasperated.

"Um- I-I'm sorry!" he waved both of his hands in front of his face. "I wasn't- I was talking to myself, I didn't mean to-"

His gaze fell to the fabric she held in one of her hands.

She held it up.

For a second he contemplated not taking it, but he figured the lack of context would just make him look like even more of an asshole. Yeah. That's the only reason he'd take it back. "I didn't notice I dropped it… Th- thanks."

The girl merely nodded, still eyeing him suspiciously as he turned away and started fumbling with his backpack again.

The sound of buttons being pressed was followed by the door sliding closed.

Yukine could still feel her eyes on him. _You're an idiot._

He cleared his throat. "So. You a member here?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Yes."

"What program are you in?"

"... Mixed martial arts."

His stomach dropped. There was only one trainer aside from Yato in the MMA program, and he's never seen this girl before, which could only mean...

And the T-shirt she returned him - a running joke made into a present for him by the Ebisu's, written in big, bright, red letters impossible to miss, the words "YATO'S KID" screaming from the white fabric.

If Aiha was any kind of reference, no wonder this girl was so hostile.

Yukine took one step towards the far corner, prepared to spend the rest of the trip in awkward silence, when the floor shook and the feeling of moving downwards stopped. The door stayed closed.

"Ah!" the girl's hands flew to her face.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll get it going soon," Yukine murmured. _Getting stuck in an elevator, after a workout with that ass, smelly and angry, with a girl I've insulted just moments before. Today's cherry on top._

That was when the lights flickered a few times and went out completely.

It was his turn to let out a strangled gasp.

His knees bumped against the floor, arms spread wide to find a wall, the railing, _something_ he could hold onto.

There was some shuffling next to him, and the dark rippled in the corner of his vision. A phone screen, held up. The light reflecting in the walls and illuminating a small, pouting face.

"What is going on?" she demanded.

"I..." he gulped. Once. Twice. "I don't like dark."

Her eyebrows rose, as if the statement piqued her curiosity. Thankfully, she didn't act on it. "The power backup should be activated soon."

He nodded, evening out his breathing. She was right. The power will return soon. There was nothing he should worry about.

The blackness sparkled with threats of resurfacing memories.

Trying to switch his focus to something else, he rambled out: "Your trainer is right, you know. Yato sucks."

A blink. "Really?"

 _Come on, join in._ "Yeah. He never takes anything seriously. For instance, this week he and Hiyori- you know Hiyori Iki, right? She fought your Aiha during the Golden Fortunes tournament- so, they started their combat practice. Like, he made her do all those months of preparations and stuff only to tell her that today she was going to fight a dummy made of some smelly, old bags stuffed with sheets. And that he'd give her extra ten minutes for every hit he didn't find aggressive enough." He breathed out. The rant seemed to soothe his panic. Good. "He keeps singing TV jingles all the time. And doing these disgusting dish mixtures whenever we're eating and begging us to try them. He doesn't separate his whites from his colors. And he dumped the entire laundry duty of our apartment on _me_! C-can you _believe_ that guy?"

" _Our_ apartment?"

"Oh, right- I'm staying here at the moment. With him."

"...I see."

Yukine noticed her voice had an unnatural stillness to it. Taking a closer look on the phone in her hands ( _his_ phone, he noticed, a bit unnerved), it was visible it was trembling considerably. "H-hey, are you okay?"

Her tightly clasped lips stretched into a small, unhappy smile. "I-I guess… I don't like small spaces."

"Oh. Aren't you afraid of the elevators, then?"

She shot him a sharp look. "I'm not _afraid_ of anything so ridiculous. But sometimes I had to..." Her voice drifted away.

It was a familiar kind of secrecy, and Yukine knew better than to push her about it, so he simply scooted closer to her, one arm still touching the wall behind him. "Tell me, what's _your_ trainer like?"

She cocked her head to one side, as if deep in thought. "Strict. But a wonderful person, cares about me a whole lot. And not just me. We're all more of a family, really."

"Seriously?" He's never gotten those vibes from Bishamon before. _Family woman_ wasn't the first attribute he'd associate with the impressive, scary warrior he's encountered a few weeks ago. But then he remembered the care she showed around her student, guiding her through the crowd with a steady arm and a smile on her face...

The girl shrugged. "I'd know better than you, wouldn't I."

Silence filled the space between them. He opened his mouth to ask for his phone to set it to the flashlight app, but then golden light came to life around them and the sounds of metal scraping against metal returned.

"There! Told you they'd solve it quickly!" he scrambled to his feet, trying to contain his elation. He offered a hand to the girl on the floor. She ignored it, returning his phone to the pocket of his bag and patting her skirt.

She was out in the hallway the same moment the door finally opened.

They wordlessly waved goodbye to each other, him going left and into the inner courtyard where the dojo was, her going right, walking swiftly towards the outside and anticipated fresh air.

Only then did he realize he never asked for her name. But it was too late- her dark hair already disappeared behind the corner and into the crowded lobby, leaving him with an unusual pang of sympathy slowly working its way through his chest.


	9. Steam Away

**Steam Away**

Slowly but diligently, she was moving up the training ranks.

Sure, she's had her doubts. There wasn't a day her mind didn't skip to that one dark corner filled with "what-ifs" and "could-nots". Even though his modus operandi often felt rather hazardous and jumbled, Hiyori Iki told herself to have faith in the man she had seen beating the light out of a wrestler twice his size- the God of Calamity. He was the only one who could help her, and if his training would contribute in her ambition to become a champion, then so be it. She would stick to it. She would stick to it until she was a winner.

And so when the day when Yato strolled into hall 5, threw his crumpled T-shirt over a dummy and pointed his fists at her finally arrived, she was one hundred percent ready.

"I just want you to know I am still fully aware of our respective positions," he announced proudly, his hands on his hips, "and will not be holding back anyway. Whatever you expected from this new level of your training, it will be ten times as hard, ten times as exhausting, ten times as-"

She never found out what else should she expect due to throwing a kick which forced Yato to sprawl himself over a bench to avoid. From then onwards, the meetings between the two turned pretty unequivocal, their fists and reflexes speaking louder than words.

Or so she thought until she bumped into Ebisu-san three months after their first meeting during the Golden Fortunes tournament.

It was a hot early-September afternoon and Hiyori was mourning a plastic bottle, the contents spilled in a puddle all around her.

"Just my luck."

"Iki-san?"

She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of her name spoken in a familiar monotone. "E-ebisu-san! Welcome- I mean, good day!"

Followed closely by two men in black, he casually strolled to the vending machine she was standing in front of and slipped a few coins into it. "How have you been, Iki-san? How come you haven't kept in touch?"

For a second Hiyori was confused. Then, she realized what he must have meant. "Oh! I bet your family is simply elated by Kofuku-san and Daikoku-san's news! I've already congratulated them, but felt it would be a bit inappropriate for me to contact other members of their families, considering-"

"No, not that." Ebisu waved a hand between clicking two buttons on the machine keyboard.

"A new Ebisu is a truly exciting novelty, but I was talking about the warning of a possible scouting trial I've forwarded to you."

Suddenly she was no more in a stuffy hallway- she stood in a vast valley, rays of sun washing everything in glitter, a bright road of gold in front of her.

"I'd ask you personally, but you were in the ambulance a bit longer than I could have allowed myself to wait. How's your arm feeling? Are there any permanent consequences that would prevent you from applying for a position in a professional agency?"

"No… Wait…" she raised her arms. "When… when did you say this was? When did the notice arrive?"

"I talked to Yato just after your tournament ended. Of course, you lost the one match you've participated in, so I wouldn't have sent you a real scouting offer, but more of an unofficial screening, my personal interest, as a preparation for a potential bona fide chance to join our team. In you I could see a promising..."

All sound drained from the picture. Around her, her valley turned into mist.

"I… I am so sorry."

"-oh? You shouldn't apologize to me." He reached forward and pressed a new water bottle into her hand. "Next time, we'll have more luck."

That last sentence, the guarantee of a _next time_ , was the only thing currently keeping Hiyori from strangling her trainer, who was cheerfully whistling on the opposite side of the sparring ring.

How could he do that to her? To keep her in the dark about such a crucial development in her (possible) career? If a company as big as Ebisu Management decided to pay her one _second_ of their time, she was supposed to be aware of that. She was supposed to know, as she was desperately clawing at every single strand of hope she could find, and if-

Two sets of fingers snapped right under her nose. "Hello? Hiyori? What's up with you today?"

She kept her focus on the hands, knowing she won't be able to restrain herself if she faced those sharp eyes. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? You seem-"

God, she needed _time_ to think about this. This changed… this changed everything.

"Yato, I do not feel like talking about it right now. Alright?"

"Al _left_. I am supposed to be your mentor. Like a life coach."

If he was still allowed to stay silent, then so was she.

"Let's just get to the punching and kicking part, fine?" she murmured.

His back straightened. "Okay. Let's go with this: wrestling match. If I win, you have to speak up about whatever hell bothering you."

She raised her gaze just long enough to shoot him a sceptic look.

"Wrestling was never in my top performances," he argued. "I'd say it's the closest we'll get to a fair fight. Plus, you get to work on your grappling, so it's a win for you no matter the ending."

She breathed out. Maybe landing a few good hits at him would help vanishing her gloom. "Fine. If I win, you _stay silent_ for as long as I say."

He shot finger guns at her as she turned around and took off her gloves. "We're not counting points. Only winning by fall counts."

"No bout restrictions?" Yato's eyebrows twitched. "It's like a freestyle "freestyle" match. Works for me."

Good. She wanted this to go on as long as possible.

She crouched into the starting position in front of him, signaling she was ready with one hand. He followed suit.

"Ready… go!"

Hiyori immediately stepped to the left, convinced he'd waste no time to take her down, but to her surprise he moved together with her, his arms still set to the side. She took another step along the imaginary circle. Again, he followed without any indications to try anything more.

Thirty seconds and a full circle later, she finally got fed up.

"What are you _doing_? If this was a real match, you'd get your notice a long time ago!"

"Oh, so we're doing a real match after all?" he tapped his forehead.

Hiyori lunged forward without a warning, but hands collided with her forearms and spun her to the side as if Yato was expecting it all along. She didn't even have the time to take a single breath before his body twisted and slammed her back into the ground.

He was already on his feet, clapping his hands."There! I win! I will keep talking and so will y-"

"It would be ridiculous to bet on a single match," she protested and jumped up. "Best two out of three!"

He shrugged and eased himself back into the starting position. "Kinda makes sense. C'mon."

Yato wasted no time after Hiyori signalled to begin. He reached under her arm and pulled her towards his chest, but she managed to slither out at the last second.

And from her new stand at his hip, she had a clear view of a gaping hole in his armour; the momentum was still carrying him forward, and all that was left was a little push to tip him over.

"AH-HA!"

Ducking under her advancing hold, he threw himself at her right leg again, forcing her to change her direction and snap at his head.

 _Wasted a perfectly good opportunity! Idiot!_

She moved to stop him from sweeping her legs under her, but…

Instead at her knee, the grip jabbed at her waist.

And as she felt his shoulder securing her backside, she realized what was going to happen.

 _No, no no, no._

Yato arched backwards wildly, hoisting her along with him- she spun through the air, desperately trying to avoid the fall.

A loud yell rang: "Hiyori!"

Her elbow cracked. She flexed, stifling a sob when no pain followed. "I'm fine. Keep going," she reassured as she got up and back to the starting point.

He followed suit, his steps tense. "Tell me that was an accident."

She tried to avoid his eyes, which was hard in their nose-to-nose situation. Instead she focused on his chin.

He raised his arms, but the little scar in one corner of his mouth tightened in disapproval. "Hiyori," he chided. "What was the first thing you learned in wrestling classes? Tell me what you did wrong just now."

"I just tried to keep my shoulders off the floor. In a bad way. It was a mistake."

"And if you got injured..."

She tightened her fists. "... What. You'd win and have it your way."

"Gah! If you got careless and hurt yourself in the middle of a real match, it would mean being forced out of the race!" he cried. But then a tiny trace of humour danced on his lips and he closed the distance between them with a sweep of hand.

But instead of an attack, it was a flick to her forehead and a flash of a grin.

"Also, I'd worry a lot."

Her mouth moved, unable to produce but a peep. This man…

"And now," he leaned in closer ( _Even! Closer!_ ), "correct yourself."

And all of a sudden his laughter was resounding from somewhere underneath her, her legs leaving the floor again and her upper back colliding with wood in another fall.

 _This man..._

"Yato two!"

"Wha- why-"

"Hiyoriiii zeeero!"

"It doesn't- it doesn't count!" She got up on her quivering feet, her insides feeling like burning up. "You distracted me! You talked and- and it-"

"I did no such thing," he replied sweetly, "I was merely giving you a lesion. What kind of a teacher would I be if I let my students just dance away their mistakes?"

"You..." she fumed. She wouldn't let him get away. "Three out of five!"

"Still want more?" Yato stopped with his little triumph round around the ring and nodded. "I'm pretty sure there's steam coming out of your ears. You really _should_ blow it off. Let's go."

And shot forward, straight at her.

This time, she was expecting it. As opposed to her raging pulse, her head felt unreasonably clear, the next few moves laid out neatly in front of her, and she dug her heels into the ground to meet his body in a steady chest lock.

She counted to ten, doing her best to distribute her strength over every separate moment. Then, she let herself slip slightly to the left, her right arm debilitating.

And just as she hoped, Yato took the chance and pulled out his head from underneath her.

"Mine!" a yelp tore from her lips.

His brow furrowed.

"Crossface!"

And as her arm collided with his neck and hurled him backwards, she stared right into those wide, shocked irises and pressed his shoulder blades to the floor using her own shoulder.

"There." Hiyori poked his heaving chest. "My point."

"You..." disoriented, he nodded his head. "Did you… trick me? You tricked me!"

She leaned to the side, balancing on one elbow and kicked the leg she was sprawled over. "Have a taste of your own medicine, you scoundrel."

He hummed. "Good job, but I guess you aren't satisfied yet? Should I sound the fourth bell?"

"Mm. I'll do it."

"Sure. Whenever you're ready."

He dared to close his eyes, as if he was planning to take a nap right then and there.

"..."

Well then.

"... _Now_."

His head snapped up. "Wait- What?"

But she already hooked one leg behind his captured knee, pulled him up and slammed him to her other side. "There! It's two-two now!"

"I can't _believe_ you!" he squawked, earning himself a mouthful of Hiyori's now unbound hair. "Argh- blegh! This is getting _way_ too rampant to be considered a clean match!"

"We did say it was a freestyle freestyle, no?"

"Nowt weally complaining." He pulled another hair off his tongue. "Ew. I'm just stating the obvious. In fact, I think _I_ 'll ring the next round. The one that decides the winner of the whole championship"

"What?" Hiyori whirled away from the fallen man, struggling to her feet. "Wait- wait to-"

"Now!"

In a moment, her back was pressed back against the floor, his kneecaps digging into her arms, pinning them down and leaving her completely restrained. She struggled to wiggle out, fully aware how futile the resistance was as Yato's announced in a triumphant voice: "Three!"

She threw her head back, blowing at the stray locks of hair all over her forehead. "How about five out of-"

"Oooooooh, nooooo!" he leaned in, his lips in a pout, "I've humoured you long enough. You lost. So spit it out, Hiyori: what is bothering you?"

His expression, now so, _so_ close again, gave away traces of concern that made her will to fight wither considerably.

She shook her head. _Snap out of it._ "When you are being this annoyingly persistent, how do you expect me to tell you any-"

A click of heels against stone.

"Hiyori, dear, are you-"

And then a sharp scream filled the whole room, as loud as if transmitted through multiple amplifiers in her ears.

Her head snapped towards the entrance, crashing into Yato's nose and making him let out an undignified yelp.

Though this time, Hiyori didn't care much about it. Her mind was fully occupied by trying to process the scene of her mother, hairdresser-styled hair and shiny shoes and the rest that goes with her, clenching the doorway to hall 5 and clawing at her heart.

"Um… this is a controlled enviroment, lady. She's completely safe. No problem here. Did you need directions to somewhere?" Yato leaned back, but didn't distance himself from the girl, to her utter horror- which only petrified her further.

"C… C… Hiyori… "

"You know each other?" Yato's gaze danced between the two, then he facepalmed. "Oh right, didn't you call her name earlier? Hi there, I'm Yato, Hiyori's-"

"Get off!" Hiyori's voice finally punched its way out of her, her body moving on its own as she scrambled to her feet. "Mother, how are you here? Why- what-"

But her mother was not listening to her. Even though the rest of her looked completely shocked - hard breathing, pale features, shaky legs- her brown eyes were fixed on the young man's face, an intense glint deflecting in them.

"You… _Yato_..." her words shook with a silent threat, " _you will pay for this."_

"Wait, mother!" Hiyori jumped to her, grasping her fists.

" _Mo-_ "

Suddenly another pair of footsteps banged its way through the hallway. "YO, asshole, did you go rummaging through my wallet aga-"

Yukine froze mid-step, taking in the sight of shirtless Yato lying on the floor and staring at a flustered Hiyori, who was struggling to restrain a furious older woman swinging at the man before casually turning on his toes and trying to retreat the way he arrived.

 _Trying_. His retreat gave every person present a clear view of the back of his shirt.

" _YATO'S KID_?!"

And with that, Hiyori's mother's eyes rolled back and she collapsed towards the floor.

" _Mother_!"

Her eyes fluttered.

Hiyori pulled her a bit higher, accepting the water bottle Yukine rushed to bring her.

"Hiyori," the woman whimpered weakly. "Hiyori, what in the world made you-"

"I am training, mother!" Hiyori's voice reached a high pitch, slowly closing in on the very peak of a panic outburst. "A MMA training! I'm completely fine!"

Her mother's gaze found hers. Her shaky fingers touched the girl's cheek. "Hiyori… You… Where… What is… So that man..."

This time, there were no thoughts in her head. Blank space took the place of a logical, nice-sounding explanation she was dreaming she would deliver to her parents once all the hiding and tricks came to an end. She was alone, left stranded with her worst nightmare.

She closed her mother's fingers around the bottle. "This is Yato. He's been- I came here to train with him. I've been here for… a while now."

"So… you weren't… were you lying to us?"

Hiyori's lower lip quivered. "I am so sorry. So sorry."

Her mother's grip weakened even more.

"Mother, I… I am so sorry. But you have to know, I just wanted to- I wanted to make it, and- you have to know, nobody else knew anything. Yato, Masaomi and the others had nothing to do with it, I was the only one who made this mistake. I am the only one to blame, and-"

"What could have happened..." her mother raised her hand to her face, but Yukine was swifter and already started fanning her with a notebook from Hiyori's bag. "Hurt… Oh god, Hiyori, you haven't gotten hurt, have you?"

Yukine and Hiyori traded glances.

"Mother… How do you… feel about this? I understand if you need some time to-"

"Time!" The woman gently cupped Hiyori's cheeks in her hands, but her tone was fired up. "You are returning back home, miss, and you are _explaining everything_ to _everybody_ _._ "

The room was plunged into darkness in a second.

"Mother… Please, just hear me out-"

"I _am_ going to hear you out- once you are safe and sound and _dressed_ _decently_! We thought you liked your college, we thought you were satisfied with your choice, and I simply cannot… I don't understand why..." she stammered over tears which appeared, glistening under her eyelids. "Were you really that unhappy, Hiyori? Did you really feel like you needed to to run away from home, from _us_ -"

"Mother, no!" her heart was racing, her pulse screaming, her throat burning. "I wasn't trying to- I just wanted to _prove_ you I could do this! I wasn't unhappy with my life as a med student. It was a matter of proving m-myself, and nothing more."

Brown met brown.

"Then come home. Please."

She couldn't do this. She couldn't fight it- this was precisely why she felt the need to hide, to be at peace for a few months, to ignore the sharp pang of rational thinking and expectations that were following at her heels wherever else she went.

"... Please don't take Hiyori away, Mrs. Iki," a small voice interrupted the stillness.

Hiyori's mother turned to the boy at her side and blinked in confusion. "E-excuse me?"

Yukine fluttered his eyelashes, his lips a tight line on his drained expression. "I am Hiyori's student, Yukine. I have had a lot of problems with b-bullies in the past, but Hiyori listened to me and helped me get through them. She is so much better than _that_ guy," he pointed somewhere behind the two women where Yato must have waited and uncovered a small, innocent smile. "I just don't know what would I do without her. She is my best friend. She is a real life-saver, your daughter. You must be so proud."

Stunned quiet fell over the room.

Yukine simply held up his hand. "More water?"

Mrs. Iki took the bottle but didn't drink up, her lips still slightly parted.

Hiyori sympathized with her shock. _Yukine-kun, you are_ adorable _!_

"I-i can't let my daughter spend her life running around the country without letting her family know where she is or what is she doing! I would simply be a bad parent if I let that sli-"

"Just until the end of the year?" Another smile. "Please?"

 _A nice word has the ability to open leaden doors._

"W-well..." With the children's help the woman slowly scrambled to her feet and dusted her pants. Then she faced her daughter. " As you already know, I don't feel good about this."

"…"

"It's a world filled with uncertainty and danger and it does not fit a young lady."

Hiyori simply nodded, breathless.

"But… I suppose letting you stay here and tutor this boy for another few months can't be more dangerous than traveling alone. Let's try talking about it again."

Tears streaked down her cheeks. "Mother! Thank you, thank you, I promise you won't be disappointed!"

"Honey..."

She didn't finish the thought. She simply waited for the girl to find her shirt and then followed her out of the room, but she could hear the ending hanging in the air between them.

Hiyori was snapped back to reality by a loud yell.

"What the hell?!"

"Sorry, I simply couldn't help myself," Yato smirked, "you were just _tooo cuuteeee!_ "

She heard him jumping to pinch the boy's cheeks again, but was pushed away.

An hour later Hiyori was back, greeted by two questioning looks.

"She's fine. We had tea. I took her back to the station. She'll- she'll stay silent until spring."

Yukine let out a long breath. "Oh, thank god." Then he turned accusingly to Yato. "And thank _you_ for the help back there, ass. Hiyori was almost taken away and you just watched."

 _It was probably better that way_ , Hiyori thought of noticing.

"What was I supposed to say?" Yato shrugged. "How sad I am she didn't tell her parents about me? Hell, how sad I am because she didn't _tell me_ about not telling her parents about me? Oh, right," he pouted at her and crossed his arms. "Hiyori, I am highly disappointed you've kept it a secret from me."

Her stomach did a somersault. "Excuse me…?"

"I deserved to know I was training a girl who basically ran away from home to join me, right? Hell, I thought we were friends! And friends tell each other this stuff! It was very rude of you to withhold that from me, 's all I'm sayin'." His nose turned upwards, snapping the last strands of self control that held her composure together.

"This is _my_ problem. This had _nothing_ to do with you, Yato! _"_ she shot at him. "Not a single thing! Not at all like information _you_ are withholding from _me_."

His eyes burst open, surprise and fear mixed on his face. "What are you..."

"I know _everything_ , Yato!" she snapped. "Ebisu-san has told me. And I can't believe you thought me stupid enough to just get over it like you've done nothing wrong."

She didn't remember if he answered her. The bang of the door slamming behind her dulled out every other sound from her ears.

Regret came almost immediately.

The flat rooftop of _Hafuri_ was bathed in the beautiful colors of the sunset shooting across the sky to the west, but Hiyori rested her head between her knees, shutting out the rest of the world.

Running away after blowing up like that… Yato must be so confused. It wasn't fair to disappear without an explanation.

"Do you want to be alone?"

Soft footsteps stopped next to her and were followed by a soft sound of another person settling down on her right.

"No," she admitted. "I am sorry for storming off. I should've stayed and tried to talk."

"No, you should have slapped him on your way out."

She chuckled. "You don't even know what this is about, Yukine-kun."

"But I do live with the guy." After a short pause he added: "And I know _you_. I think."

She pressed her forehead harder against her legs and silently confessed to him what she found out by the vending machines earlier.

"So a management company- a _big_ one- has noticed you and singled you out as a possible candidate for being a possible candidate. And Yato, who at the time didn't know how badly you needed that kind of validation, decided to keep you in the dark." Yukine sounded as if he was counting on his fingers.

"He couldn't know, but doesn't that make the whole situation even worse? Isn't it a trainer's job to help their students to break through, to make something of themselves? Back then, he had no reason to believe I wasn't a hundred percent serious about becoming a MMA fighter."

"... aren't you?"

She dug her nails into her elbow. "N-no… no. I just want to prove myself. Just winning a tournament or managing to get my name out there would be enough. I ask for nothing more."

"Hiyori… um, I don't know how to… oh, damn it- Hiyori, that sounds like a load of bull."

Her head snapped up.

The boy was relaxed back on his elbows, facing away from her. "Sorry. I just wanted to be honest."

Her gaze fixed at the horizont, tracing the clouds swiftly disappearing behind the pink line.

Ebisu didn't even flinch when he threw himself onto the bar stool next to him, and only blinked as he swiped the glass set in front of him, doing the same when he choked on the first sip after realizing it was water. And when the coughing, teary-eyed Yato asked him if he could lend him some time, he simply nodded, ordering a new glass with a snap of his fingers.

He exhaled. "Say, if there was a danger of somebody finding out something… really not flattering about you, and that thing might change her- their- whole perception of you, and said information came from a certain _Ebisu-san_ , how would you go about it?"

"Shouldn't you offer some more information when asking for such specific advice?" he asked.

"I..." Yato clenched his teeth. _Carefully._ "It's about Hiyori."

"Oh, Iki-san!" Ebisu tapped his fist to his other palm in recognition. "Then this must be about how you went behind her back and didn't forward her my message about my company taking interest in her!"

Yato's jaw dropped.

"Of course! That!" He mentally slapped himself. "How the _fuck_ did I manage to forget that?" he wondered.

"Are you trying to convince me you did it unintentionally?"

Yato studied the man's eyes and decided to go with the truth. "...No, I did that part on purpose."

"Yato-san, that was absolutely heinous."

"Why? She isn't ready yet!" He crossed his arms over his chest protectively (why protectively? He wondered.) "It would be really unthoughtful of a trainer to let his student think she was above her rank. Filling somebody's head with empty dreams and promises is vile, simply vile-"

"You and I both know, Yato-san," Ebisu interrupted politely, "the girl may not be ready for a professional career, but is indisputably set on a path to reach the heights one day."

"... Every time I get advice from you I end up wanting to slap you."

"And yet you end up asking for it over and over again," Ebisu reminded him, taking a sip from his glass.

"To be honest, she didn't give me much space for doubt," Yato confessed. "From the first moment, I knew there was power in her punches. Quite… a lot of it… Like, a lot. Wow. That girl throws mean punches. Really mean."

"Although I'd say legs are her preference, right?"

"Oh, yes! We've been working on adjusting her in-fight movement to serve as a better kick support. A few times we tried the crawl, but it just made her knees wobble, so we settled for trying to shorten the weakening the midriff guard when she goes in for the attack. Because she has become deathly scared of grappling, she chooses to stay light and swift instead of..." he remembered the glow whenever she managed to land a beautiful hit using her beloved Jungle Savate. "I feel like I should make her focus more on the weak points of her technique, but it's kinda hard to force her out of a zone where she clearly feels so comfortable _and_ very useful."

The other man's mouth corners slightly turned upwards. "So?"

" _So_ what?"

"Why did you do it?"

Still pouting, Yato relaxed his hands on the table. Why? He never really took time to think about _why._ The decision was made the same minute Ebisu's words left his mouth- _She doesn't need to know. It's a scouting for scouting, for god's sake!_ -and that was it. But now his mind started opening to other reasons and possibilities…

… and he hated every one of them.

"Aaaaaa _aaaaah._ " Irritated, he rubbed the scars along the edge of his face. "Crap. I gotta find her and apologize. As soon as I can."

"Good job," Ebisu cooed.

"I'll stand in front of her and say, _I'm sorry I am a piece of shit._ "

"Maybe try being a little gentler, Yato-san?"

"A piece of poo."

"As sophisticated as ever."

"Now I wanna slap you again," Yato got up and stretched , "but thanks a ton for the advice and none at all for the water. Good to have found you here today."

"Well actually, Yato-san, I came to see you! It's just that your little team drama somehow managed to stop me from asking you..."

"Mm?" Yato turned around, elbows still midway up. "Sure, whatever, man. Just shoot."

"Maybe Hiyori Iki still didn't find out that rather unflattering secret you were so afraid of, but if she had at least one source resembling mine, you and your carelessness would have already been uncovered."

His hands dropped to his side.

 _You can't be..._

Dryly, he croaked out, "What are you..."

Something glistened in that man's dark eyes and Yato's stomach twisted into a knot even before he mouthed: "Everything."

 **A/N**

 **Yato pls**

 **A big thank you to Meta-Akira, belenm805, BlueAngel7810 and guest for dropping by the comment section! It makes me happy to see people are enjoying and theorizing about this story :D I do have quite a few tricks up my sleeve left I hope won't disappoint...**


	10. Silently It Crumbles

**In Silence It Crumbles**

 _[7:23]_

 _Hiyo: Yama-chan?_

 _[7:24]_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: aaaah! It's the corpse bride, back from the dead to (hopefully) invite me to her wedding!_

 _Hiyo: Have you, by any chance, accidentally told my mother something about Hafuri?_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: wht, not even gonna try denying? X3_

 _[7:25]_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: wait_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: wat are u sayimg_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: did she find ouz_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: hiyori where are u?_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: i swear isaif noting i woulfnt dare holy sjit you know i wouls neber betray yoh are u okay?_

 _Hiyo: Calm down, Yama-chan, I am fine!_

 _Hiyo: She visited me at the studio some time ago. I was too surprised to ask her how she knew where to find me, so…_

 _[7:26]_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: wait she didn't drag you home by your hair?_

 _Hiyo: No, she sat me down and we had a civilized conversation. She's letting me stay. She isn't going to tell dad anything…._

 _Hyakkiyakouist: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: THIS IS SO AMAZINF_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: I CAN'T BELIEVE MRS IKI HAS A REBELLIOUS STREAK_

 _Hyakkiyakouist: THIS IS SO COOOOL LIKE YOU TWO ARE COVERING UP UR CAREER LIKE UR A SUPERHERO AND SHE IS YOUR SIDEKICK BUTLER YOU GOOO MAMA IKI_

 _[7:28]_

 _Hiyo: She's letting me stay for a while. After that, I'm not really sure what will happen._

 _Hyakkiyakouist: …. o_

IIIIIIIIII

The paper ball sketched out an arch through the air, painted green of the lit up sign. One of its lumps brushed against the loop before limply surging downwards, back towards the bench.

Yukine caught it and lightly knocked his head on the wood. He brought his hand a bit further away from his body, enabling a wider space for throwing, and tried again.

Another miss.

Which made a total of twenty six misses and zero hits.

 _If I miss this next one, I am doing both Yato's and my dishes for a week._

Miss.

 _A week of laundry duty._

Miss.

 _Three times of scrubbing the bathroom without complaint_

Before he managed to sentence himself to that particularlybadly thought-through punishment, a hand snatched his makeshift ball out of the air.

"Hey!" he protested, craning his neck to glare at the perpetrator.

"I apologize for the disturbance," started the upside-down Kazuma-san, "but I had to ask- what are you doing here?"

Yukine bolted into a sitting position. "Um- good day, Kazuma-san! I actually- I uh- moved in here some time ago, and I-"

"I am aware of that." Kazuma-san's gaze fell to the ball in his hand. "You are Yato's kid, right?"

"I..."

"It's been a long time since you've become a common face around here," the man said, "so I didn't intend to ask that. What I meant is: Are you okay?"

"Oh." Yukine fidgeted. What a strange question.

Kazuma-san's expression, though still unflinching, adopted a sympathetic note. "Did Yato do something?"

"This time, no."A puff escaped his lips. "Well, kinda. He and Hiyori are in the hall being all..." He waved his arms, trying to convey the feeling. "You know."

"I can't say I do?"

To Yukine's surprise, the words held an invitation to explain further.

But of course, Yukine remembered. Kazuma-san was the main reason Yato was able to score a job at Hafuri in the first place. The two were probably closer than it seemed.

He flexed his jaw. "Well. Yato did this stupid mistake of not telling Hiyori about scouts whose attention she's caught during the Golden Fortunes tournament. Hiyori found out a couple of weeks ago, and they had this… They say they talked it out, and most of the time it is very believable. But it still gets kinda weird between them, you know? He is clearly very sorry about it, which makes me wonder why he even did it in the first place."

Kazuma-san was tapping his foot on the marble floor. "Yato did such a thing to his first full-timer in a-" his breath caught.

"It's fine. Yato told me and Hiyori about everything."

For the first time, Kazuma-san's eyes completely focused on Yukine's. "Everything?"

"Yeah," Yukine sat up a bit straighter, a strange sense of pride washing over him. "He told us how you two met. I know he used to be a-"

"Yeah, yeah," Kazuma-san interrupted loudly, "I'm surprised he'd tell you. It's not really something to _shout from the rooftops._ "

Yukine's cheeks burned. "Sorry," he whispered.

The man waved the apology away, though his eyes remained stormy. "Just be careful. Also… Yukine-kun, I hope you don't mind, but… Saying I'm surprised he'd told you that secret is a big understatement. It's quite unbelievable Yato would…" He shook his head.

Yukine opened his mouth, but clamped them shut almost immediately. He couldn't argue with that. No matter how much he wanted to.

"But I am glad he did."

Yukine's head snapped up at the unexpected softness of the statement.

"He is always so closed to the world. He never lets anyone into his head, pretending..." Kazuma-san sighed and dropped to the bench next to the boy. "In truth, he is my benefactor as much as I am his. I want to see him breaking away from what once was and turn to the future where he could carry on..." He rubbed his cheek and let out a strained chuckle. "Listen to me rambling on and on. It's the fatigue speaking. I haven't had a good rest in so long..."

"It's okay." A lie. Seeing the serious, composed Kazuma-san acting like this _was_ quite unnerving.

But instead of pointing that out, Yukine questioned, "Did something worrying pop up at work?"

"More like some _one_ ," the man corrected, "and I can't really say she's a newly added factor. Well," he stood back up and dusted non-existent flecks off his suit, "speaking of work, time to get back."

"Uh, okay then. May I..."

Kazuma-san blinked, but then grasped the meaning behind the request. He threw the paper ball back to Yukine.

The ball bounced off the bench a few... dozen... centimeters to his left.

"Ah. My apologies." He watched as Yukine scrambled for the ball. "But, Yukine-kun, don't you have something more productive to do than trying to… get a piece of paper through the toilet sign?"

Yukine scratched his ear. _There it is._

"I don't really have much to do around here, do I? I'm not really one of the trainees, I'm not on the staff. In truth, I'm quite useless." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

And failed miserably, judging by Kazuma-san's sympathetic look.

"I'm sure we could find you something to fill your time with," he mused, bringing a hand to his chin. "In fact… I think..."

He strolled to the nearest window and peered out. Yukine knew it was a first-storey window overlooking the gardens, but had no idea what was it the man was looking for.

"Suzuha!"

Yukine jumped at the call, startled from the intensity of Kazuma-san's usually calm voice. He didn't catch any kind of response, but the man obviously did, because he continued, "Come up, I need you for a bit!" and then, "I'm sure the weeds will eagerly await your return, Suzuha!"

Yukine wiped his palms on his jeans, not sure what was he supposed to do. Kazuma-san seemed to think a gardener might be a solution to Yukine's boredom. Which seemed like a pretty wild guess, considering up until that moment Yukine wasn't even _aware_ Hafuri had a gardener who served the position often enough to be on first-name-basis with Kazuma-san.

A squeak of boots on the marble appeared and grew louder with each second.

"Here I am, Kazuma-san. What do you need?"

He was definitely Suzuha the gardener. Smudges of dirt on his cuffs and cheeks, the green of his knees and too-big work gloves left no place for doubt. But, Yukine was taken aback by the short build and round face which looked not a day older than him.

"Yukine-kun, this is Suzuha. He used to be one of our students, but now he comes in to take care of the gardens. He's here every day, and I believe he might help you out. Suzuha, this is-"

"Yato's kid, of course! I've heard legends about some stray spirit roaming these halls all day," Suzuha nodded.

Yukine bit his cheek. "You're a spirit as much as I am, then. The amount of times I've seen you tending to those roses in the back is not even remotely proportional to the quality of their looks. That, or you're just lucky."

For a heartbeat, Suzuha just stared at him. Then his face stretched into a wide grin, uncovering one dimple on his left cheek. He offered him his dirt-caked hand. "Then I guess we're one hell of a pair of ghost boys."

IIIIIIIII

Ever since she was a little girl, Hiyori Iki took pride in her forgiving nature. Across the years, it allowed her to keep a clear head and mend many misunderstandings when others lost hope.

But never before did she feel the _bad_ consequences of it this deeply.

Awkward.

That was the only word popping into her head every day when her sports bag hit the floor of Hall 5 and her trainer laid his gaze on her. The only word she could use to explain the invisible energy charging between them when they hoisted themselves into the ring and locked eyes, their current thoughts and feelings becoming apparent simply from- Augh.

And what was worse, she wasn't sure how to fix it, because she wasn't completely sure what was broken in the first place. She got over initial feeling of betrayal much faster than she'd expected. He begged, apologized enough times to make sure the walls could already repeat after him, tiptoed around her as if she were made of glass, his honesty and unmasked guilt tying her tongue and making her head spin.

As if it wasn't him who did it. As if he was lamenting an act committed a long time ago, when he still couldn't understand it was a bad thing to do.

However, that still didn't excuse his actions, and she made sure to let him know that she expected that to be the only time he made such a mistake.

But even after countless conversations, her mind couldn't seem to switch back into its usual pace. Something seemed to have been triggered by that explosion of hurt that rattled her, by the unexpected spill of her most guarded secret. Something that made her hands fidget impatiently whenever he'd address her, her breath hitch at the flash of ice blue greeting her. Something she simply couldn't help but wonder if-

She splashed a handful of water at her face, raising her head to meet her own gaze in the mirror of her tiny bathroom.

Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.

Just as she gathered enough water for another handful, the annoying beep of the front door tore through the silence of the evening in the little apartment complex.

She grabbed a towel from the hanger. "Coming!"

Just to be sure, she double-checked if the small balcony was completely cleared and ready. She jumped over a bag of soil and swung the door open. "Thank you so much for your help, Yukine-ku-"

A pair of black eyes narrowed at the sight of her.

"O-oh, um." Hiyori stammered, her cheeks reddening. "I apologize. I thought it was someone else."

"I can see that."

Hiyori cocked her head, taken aback by the hostility in the girl's voice. She couldn't have been more than thirteen, maybe even younger, but judging was hard due to the collision of her petite frame and cold, collected expression. She stood completely still, scanning Hiyori as if she were a wrinkle on her spotless white skirt.

Hiyori knew that look. And she highly disliked the idea of a _child_ contemplating the best way to eliminate someone.

She stood up straighter. "Can I help you?"

The girl's gaze snapped back to her face, as if she'd forgotten Hiyori could speak. A heartbeat later she responded with nothing more but a silent: "I am Yato's sister."

It was enough.

"Yato's sister? Yato… Yato the MMA fighter, Yato?"

The girl nodded. And waited.

"Uh… Do you want… To come in?"

Another sharp nod.

Hiyori angled herself away from the door and lead the way back into the apartment. She racked her brain, trying to remember if Yato had ever talked about his sister. If he'd ever even _mentioned_ his family. Considering his unfortunate past, she simply figured it was a sensitive subject for him, but now…

She turned and found the girl stopped almost immediately after crossing the threshold. Her focus hasn't left Hiyori's back.

She cleared her throat. "You can sit here," she offered, gesticulating to the low table. "I can set the pot so we can have some tea as we talk about… What do you need? What's your name?"

"My name is none of your business."

Hiyori's hand froze midair, halfway to plug the electric teapot into the socket. "Excuse me, I think I misheard-"

"He isn't going to change for you, you know?"

Hiyori felt her jaw drop.

Was this girl really…

"If you are trying to warn me about what happened with the scouts," she began carefully, "it's all well now. We talked it all over. Yato apologized. It is solved now, so don't worry."

A sparkle of delight flared in the girl's eyes, her face melting from distaste to a small smile barely touching her lips. "I am surprised you think I would care about your private disputes. You are insignificant. You are nothing but another little girl who will soon be on her way to get away from him as fast as possible. But right now, you are meddling into something far more important, and I need you to disappear as soon as possible."

A chill seemed to run through the entire apartment, silencing the world and everything in it as it dawned on Hiyori that this girl was serious. She was threatening her, even though the top of her tidy black hair barely reached Hiyori's nose. She was threatening her over Yato.

Her tongue untangled itself. "I know all of it. Yato told me. And I would never, ever, ever tell anybody else about his past... and his mistakes."

But the girl only stood up straighter, one of her bone-white hands cupping her chin in amusement. "His mistakes? You really _do_ know nothing. Can't you see? He doesn't tell you anything. You don't suit him at all."

Hiyori gritted her teeth, warmth travelling down her body.

"See?"

What was she trying to gain by coming here, telling her these things?

"I care about Yato. I can see when he's being burdened."

Obvious. It was obvious.

"Get out," Hiyori heard her hoarse whisper.

The girl fell silent, her hands folded over her stomach in a gesture of complete peace.

"Get out!" Hiyori repeated just as the girl offered her a mocking bow and soundlessly, as if she were nothing more but an apparition, disappeared into the hallway.

Hiyori let out a stifled breath. The girl's unnerving presence lingered in the room, stopping the air on its way to her lungs with the sudden realization she really didn't have a clue what was going on. She _was_ ignorant.

She was insignificant.

She forced herself to calm down. Yato had a bad past, she knew that. Family troubles probably came hand-in-hand. He probably had no idea what just occurred. But his sister obviously knew very well who Hiyori was.

But she also knew her address, something Hiyori was fairly certain Yato didn't know.

But, but, but-

"Hiyori?"

She stifled her surprised scream. "Y-yukine-kun?"

"Ah- There you are! We are here! Suzuha and Kazuma-san are unloading the car, I came to see if you could give us a hand? Also, did you know your doors are un-" The boy entered the room and noticed her. "You okay? Making tea shouldn't give you a headache, I think."

Hiyori quickly set the forgotten teapot back on the counter. "Sorry, just… Thinking."

Yukine-kun frowned. "What happ-"

"Wow, Yukine-kun, you weren't joking! This room _really_ needs a serious makeover."

Another boy appeared in the doorway, carrying a big pot filled with dirt. He smiled at Hiyori. "Hello! My name is Suzuha! I'm the gardener charged with remodelling your garden."

"Hello, Suzuha-kun! Yukine-kun's told me a lot about you!" Hiyori's manners automatically eased her expression into a smile. "Though I am afraid there won't be much of a garden. I just hoped we could brighten the space up a bit."

"And I am prepared for that exactly!" He was already out the other door and leaning over the railing. "Ugh. Kazuma-san has no idea how to handle bulbs. Better go help him before I earn myself a lesson from auntie over making him carry heavy things." And then he was gone again.

Hiyori raised her eyebrows at the other boy.

"I know. I have no idea where does he find all that energy."

"Auntie?"

"Bishamon-sama. They are related one way or another, but," he crossed his arms, "Hiyori. Are you really okay?"

"Do I look like I'm not?"

"You look ready to throw up."

She dug her nails into the wooden surface underneath. "Yukine-kun… Can I go back to the club with you after we're done here?"

IIIIIIIII

The building had stayed the same - bare, cold, dead. Short, green-and-orange splashed trees in the front were the only indicator four months had passed since she'd last been there.

She could hear Yukine yawning behind her.

They'd returned to _Hafuri_ together. She'd pretended to lose track of time and was forced to stay the night. Around midnight she'd snuck up into Yato's room and…

Empty. The sheets, crumbled on the floor and empty. The window, opened and ready to release the inhabitants of the bedroom into the chilly night air… or welcome them back inside.

She must've made a lot of noise while preparing for the trip across the city because the next thing she knew, Yukine was convincing her to let him trail along.

"How do we get in?" he asked her now.

Hiyori took a moment to consider. No doors or windows were visible anywhere near. But, if she remembered correctly…

She made her way to the cluster of wood and grass. Skipping over the mud, she dragged her hands along the wall beyond. Maybe a doorknob, or ladder of some kind…

"There."

She couldn't make out the tiny window through the thick shade of branches above, but her fingers managed to grab onto a latch and swing it open, prickling on a few splinters of cracked paint in the process. The hinges creaked loudly and Hiyori took in a panicked breath.

The darkness beyond remained still.

"Should I stay here and keep watch?"

Hiyori turned around to face the boy. His lips were pressed into a tight line, fatigue and anxiety creeping into his expression despite his obvious attempts to conceal it.

"I think it would be better if we stayed together. Separating in a place like this…"

He nodded and gestured for her to proceed.

Her shoes landed on a hard concrete floor, raising a cloud of dust into the air. As Yukine dropped himself next to her, she noticed a faint stripe of light across the black space.

She touched Yukine's shoulder and directed him towards it. When she was sure he caught the reference, she slowly started across the room, her arms outstretched for potential barricades.

Finally she made contact and immediately drew back.

"What? What?" Yukine squeaked.

"Nothing it's just… It's metal. It surprised me, because..."

Her voice trailed away as she peered out.

First hit her the crisp, fresh smell of floor cleaner. Then, the lights which seemed to reflect off everything. _Not reflecting,_ she realised.

"What are we looking for?" whispered Yukine, his eyes now wide awake and taking in the white hallway. Wide windows spread across the wall in front of them, opened to a big hall.

"That, I think," Hiyori breathed.

A crowd of hundreds of people was huddled around a platform. Overlooking the ring covered in sand and railed by ropes was a grand balcony of some sort, suspended in the air and connected to one of the walls by a metal bridge. And across from them, facing the pit, a catwalk protected by glass mirroring theirs, but furnitured with a few armchairs crafted from rich, black leather. In them sat men and women in business clothes, their faces obscured by masks.

Hiyori swallowed hard. "We should find a way to get down there." She turned away from the glass as fast as she could.

By the time they managed to reach a stairway leading off the catwalk, a few new people entered the stage. It seemed the barrier was soundproof, too, because as soon as Hiyori was beyond the border her senses were overloaded with clamor of countless voices. From the floor of the room she could see it was much taller than she'd previously thought, or maybe it was an optical illusion of all the light sources sparsely hanged over the whole ceiling. It made her feel small and insignificant and _trapped._

She couldn't imagine how Yukine must have felt. She stumbled around to grab his hand and gave him a firm squeeze.

"Alright, alright," a voice boomed from the balcony. A man dressed in the same disguise as the people from the catwalk spread his arms over the crowd, earning himself some whistles and shrieks. "With this, it seems we have found our last Champion of the night! The Boar has certainly showed us some rather… rustical action."

The crowd responded with grins and shrill laughter as if they were sharing a joke. The man standing in the ring- presumably the Boar- raised his arms above his head, relishing the attention.

"Yes, rustical," the man continued from above, his voice dripping into Hiyori's ears like syrup, voice thick with mockery, "but is it really what we are looking for here?"

A choir of profanities all meaning _yes_ answered. Hiyori's stomach recoiled.

"Only one way to find out, no?" he chuckled. "All that's standing between him and the title of our very own god is one man, one single cataclysm prepared to defend it until his dying breath."

And with that, the lights died out.

An eerie silence settled over the audience, a complete opposite to the nauseating mess that reigned until a few moments ago. One word seemed to roll around them, whisper to whisper, breath to breath.

 _Yaboku._

 _Yaboku._

Over and over again, scratching at Hiyori's mind, her memories, twisting and connecting lines and pictures.

 _Ya. Boku._

She bit her lip, stifling a sob.

"Hi..." She felt Yukine's grip on her tightening, alarmed. But she couldn't bring herself to look at him, not now, not when she realized what were they about to see, not when they were moments away from their beliefs crumpling into nothing.

A single silver spotlight lit a lone figure standing on top of one of the pillars of the ring. His bare arm outstretched, his shoulders relaxed, his face covered by that mask- white, with a cartoonish black eye drawn down the middle, only his was cut right at the tip of his nose, letting them all see the tight pull of his lips across his teeth.

Then the ring was lit up again and as if a switch was flipped and everything resumed moving once again. To her it resembled a slowed down silent film- his purposeful strides, shifting footwork, the audience cheering him on and on and on and on. So painfully similar, so brutally honest.

Yukine's nails were now digging into her hand. She didn't mind.

 _What…_ She could see the boy's mouth moving. _What is that fucking… that liar…_

A liar.

In the end, that was all he was.

The Boar hit the sand one minute or ten minutes or half an hour later and the sound slowly made its way to her ears again. The winner straightened, unmoved by the cheers surrounding him. She saw money being transferred from hand to hand all around her. For some reason that sight was what allowed her mind to regain control over her body.

She reached for a masked woman passing by. "That is the reigning champion?" she nodded to the ring where the Boar was being paraded around the ring on a pallet.

The woman cocked her head. "Yes, the God of Calamity. I've been around for years and he never once lost battle. Had to create a whole new betting system for his matches." She laughed. "Seriously, which shithole did you crawl out of not to know him, little girl?"

Hiyori let her go, gritting her teeth.

"Maybe the sand had enough to drink for tonight," the man from the balcony called again. "Maybe our God of Calamity is satisfied with his offering. Or maybe..." he leaned over the rail, "there is another lost demon seeking redemption here in the crowd? None of this week's Six were able to turn the tides, but maybe we could give fate another chance to choose?"

People silenced, but they seemed to pick up a rhythm in their clapping. A thousand hands crushing against each other, over and over again, like a raising heartbeat, swallowing her whole.

"I'm here."

Hiyori hurried to snap the woman's mask off and set it to its place before anyone could locate her voice. Then, she repeated, "I'm here."

Yukine hissed out a sharp string of curses. "Hiyori, stop."

But it was too late. Somebody noticed her already and the news started spreading, heads started turning to her.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you seriously going to-"

"I challenge the God of Calamity," she voiced, her voice cool like steel.

The crowd recovered from their surprise and the clapping and laughter picked up.

"Well," the announcer rested his chin on his hand, laning on the railing as if he was highly amused. "It seems there _is_ a little ayakashi ready to surprise us tonight. Let her through."

Yukine tried to pull her back by her sleeve. She slipped out of her coat and shirt, startling him, and gave him a slight nudge. "Wait by the exit."

The crowd parted, giving her a clear way to the platform. The respect disappeared instantly, a chorus of distasteful whispers accompanying her on her track. She almost didn't notice them, her body almost levitating closer and closer to him.

He was resting with his elbows around the rope, his chin tilted at her in wonder. The slits of his mask were too narrow for her to see beyond their shadows, but she knew what was there- crystal clear eyes, widening at her, asking her what was she doing.

Then she was right underneath him.

His lips parted in breathless recognition. He jumped back, away from her, as she raised herself into the sand.

"Little ayakashi has scared our god, I see!"

"Hiyori."

There it was, her name on his lips, a shake too faint to travel into the audience. Facing him this way, dressed in her training clothes and square-shouldered, she was thrown headfirst into a memory of a gym on a warm afternoon, the air tinged with sweat and sunlight. His chest rose and fell swiftly, drops plastered across his shoulders and arms. She couldn't stop her gaze from hanging onto every detail, drinking him in, every second freezing her mind more and more.

She dropped into the starting stance, the lights dimming as if on cue.

She moved before he did. The silver spotlight followed her as she caught him under his arm and swung him to the floor, his body as limp as a doll. Surprised, she lost her footing.

"And the little ayakashi begins the match!"

At the same time the narrator's delighted announcement, Yato moaned, "Not tonight. Please. Why did you- how-"

Hiyori pulled his arm a bit further towards herself, forcing him to arch back. "Not thanks to you. I never thought you would do-"

Boos echoed around them and she just had the time to feel Yato's arm tense before he slipped beneath her and she found herself forced down into the wet sand, her knees pressed together and arms blocked by his. He bent down and gave her a snarl. "Follow my lead," he breathed in a soft tone mismatching the violent curl of his lips. Everybody else would conclude he was threatening her. "Give them a good show. I beg you. I beg you."

Her blood boiled, burning away any trace of logic left in her.

"Gladly." But not because he told her to. She looked forward to connecting a few good hits.

He nodded. Tensed up. And then her knee hit him square into the chest, sending him flying.

Hiyori stood up, trying not to think of the unusual color of sand stains on her limbs. She was satisfied to find her legs completely still, her body focused and unwaverable even when her thoughts weren't.

He was on his feet again, grinning, spreading his arms towards the crazed faces around them as if he has already won. He sent her a rude gesture over his shoulder. Somehow, it had no impact on her as it usually would.

As it would if every inch of his face didn't scream more apologies when he turned back to her.

Slowly, he approached her and leaned down, grabbing her arm and muttering, "Let's go. You know me."

And she did, as he pulled her into a dance of crosses and jabs and kicks and flips. She was registering his subtle changes, indicators of moves he was about to use, only digging herself deeper into the memory overlaying the reality.

"Don't let me catch you. Don't take us down, I am stronger than you when it comes to wrestling," he whispered advice whenever he managed to get close enough. "Jump onto that corner- good, now back."

Cans of ice coffee and beer alike. Bandaged hands colliding. Squeaking of rubber soles on polished floors.

"A true gentleman doesn't play dirty! Giving the lady the treatment she deserves is a way to go."

But that voice and that laughter didn't belong into her little world. They belonged in an underground cage, to a bloodthirsty mass of no-goods and criminals, to a reality where her trainer and friend wasn't really hers, and he never was, and she hated him for making her believe otherwise.

He darted around her, as nimble as a ghost, making a move towards her side. Instead of leaning into the move and flowing together with him, she met his shoulders head-on, once again making them dive. The crowd _oohed._ Sunlight disappeared from her vision.

"Why?" She didn't recognize the sound tearing through her throat. "I trusted you. I trusted you. I ignored every sign, listened to your explanations, and yet here you are. And the worst part is, I still _trust_ what you said about these people- these murderers. But you are with them again. Why?"

The fall crooked his mask, freeing his left eye. The blue iris fixed on her own mask, the gaze was wide with- no. It meant nothing.

"Only a few more weeks."

"What?"

The boos picked up again, but this time it seemed he wasn't interested in them. He dragged one hand through his hair, which slipped out of his ponytail, spilling around his head like a halo. "Only a few more weeks. And it would be prepared. Well," he laughed humorlessly. "No use crying now."

He gave away no sign he was going to lunge. One moment he was underneath her and then he wasn't. His fingers wrapped around the waistband of her sweatpants, bringing his knee up for a blow she couldn't avoid, not a chance, and on instinct, she slammed her elbow across his face.

Blood sprayed through the air, tinting her face and arm. The redirected blow caught her by the shin and she fell to her knees. He landed unceremoniously under the balcony hanging overhead, close to some kind of a digital board.

He didn't get back up.

Hiyori's heartbeat boomed through the soundless room.

"Well," the voice didn't sound appealing anymore, "what do we have here."

She couldn't take her eyes off the raven hair streaked with red.

"A new goddess."

The bandage tied to her left hand snapped at the thumb. Her fingers started trembling.

"Here to take the title of our champion."

She was going to vomit.

"Knocking down the Head Price of Yaboku."

She couldn't breathe through the musty air, whispers picking up, her brain suddenly very aware of hundreds of bodies pressed closely all around her.

She raised her gaze upwards, seeking the emptiness above the lights piercing her nerves, and met a brown-eyed glare pinning her down to her place.

"Yes, the Head Price," the man continued, so filled with pleasantness and almost completely hidden rage, "a quarter of it isn't half bad a deal, true _._ "

Hiyori didn't know what was he talking about. But she wasn't sure she would care even if she did.

"No," a gurgling voice answered in her stead.

Gasps.

The shaking God of Calamity raised to knees and elbows. Hiyori almost sobbed at the sight.

"Stop," he rasped again. "Please, don't do this."

"Do _what_ exactly, Yaboku?" the man chuckled. "I can't help but wonder how did my top fighter lose to a girl who never once before participated in our tournament? I could understand if it was one of the Six, but her... Can you blame me?"

Murmurs spread around the podium.

"The bitch cheated!" one screamed.

"But why?" the man's voice managed to outspeak the clutter without any obvious strain. "Did you think the Head Price would be enough to silence your audience?"

Yato, still pasted to the ground, let out a strained, sob-like laugh. "Why did I even think you would just give up the money like that?"

"I am a businessman, Yaboku. I keep my end of the deal. If our customers decide this is a fair win, that this little ayakashi and the winners deserve to walk away with the prize and leave those who were dealt an unlucky hand tonight, I will not object."

Hiyori did not understand what was going on, but the shift in the atmosphere made the hairs on her arms stand up.

A man close to her side of the platform shouted, "No fucking way this is fair!" Somebody else told him to shut up. More yells resounded, each louder and more crude than the last.

And then the first punch fell.

Scruffles and sounds of glass breaking surrounded them. Yato scrambled into her direction, trying to tell her something, but screams and curses outvoiced him.

She didn't know where to look, where to step. Suddenly something tugged on her legs and one of the men tried to grab her by the waist, his damp touch pulling her out of her numbness and willing her to move. He was back over the fence in less than a second, her heart alive again against her ribs.

She felt another arm around her, sending her nerves on edge, but then he whispered, "It's me. We're done here. Follow me."

She didn't object. She simply swung herself across the rope after him and landed in a field of fallen bodies and broken bottles. She sprinted away from the podium, too focused on pushing and scratching to be careful of crushing toes or fingers. Yato wasn't as fast as her, being constantly slowed down in favor of shrieking men with bulged eyes throwing themselves in his way. He was just as fast to be rid of them, but there was quite a number of his pursuers. Quite a number.

Hiyori gave herself a second of hesitancy before she ducked underneath someone's arm and locked her legs around an attacker trying to jump Yato's back, crashing his head against the wet floor.

"Hiyori!"

"Shut up and work."

And he did, judging from the delighted laughter fading a bit. She didn't turn around to check how was he doing. Every single thought in her head was of so many punches and so many grabs coming from all around her. It felt like if she stalled for a single second, took only a moment to rest up her already throbbing muscles, she would go under.

She threw herself to the floor, avoiding a swing of a blunt piece of wood, and used the attacker's own weight to direct him towards another one to her left. There was a slower stream of new thugs coming their way now, igniting a spark of hope inside her. Of course they would be afraid. A long-term champion and his conquer fighting side by side- a bunch of untrained no-goods with nothing but anger to drive them had no chance at all to-

A spark of silver. A move of a finger on a small mechanism, the sound of movement lost in the havoc of vocals.

"Yato!" a scream tore out of her. "Get down!"

He turned around, turning around swiftly, searching for- for-

 _No._

Hiyori sprang towards him, her heels aching from the impact, but was snatched right out of the air with a breathtaking swing to her stomach. "No!" she screeched as multiple pairs of hands lifted her, hot tears bubbling out of her, "Let me go! That man has a- he is going to- Yato!"

But Yato didn't heed her warnings. He zoomed in on the group around her- the completely wrong direction, oh god- and dropped into a feral crouch. Then the flood of limbs swallowed her, cutting off her view of the situation. She elbowed and bit and kicked and roared, but she didn't need sight to know.

She knew it was too late as soon as the bang sounded.

She knew it was too late as soon as she hit the floor, her assaulters backing away, staring at something behind her.

She slammed her knees against the floor and crawled around the legs and knees stilling around her, almost not noticing the green glass slicing into her hands.

"Yato," she pleaded, "Yato."

He was still standing, that much was clear. His hands were clenched around the cuffs of his training shorts, head bowed, focused on a form curled beneath his feet.

A small form.

A boy, his orange jumper sprayed red, red, red.

Hiyori's breath hitched.

Yato slowly raised his head to size up the still circle of audience around them.

"Who," that dead, unfeeling voice hummed, "who did this?"

Hiyori couldn't take her eyes away from the golden-haired boy twitching in pain.

"Who. Did. This."

She moved as one with the crowd.

Feet slammed on the metal floor, a stampede towards the exist. If the previous scuffle was pandemonium, this was hell- she was sure she would be trampled to death, sure she would die right then and then, crouched on all fours, watching Yukine-kun bleeding out- but a safe bubble appeared around Yato, people scrambling over themselves to get away from him.

Her leap was timed just right to stop his own, his teeth bared, a murderous sound emitting from it.

"Yato, stop! Yukine-kun needs help! We have to- we can't- Yato, we need to get him to a-"

He grabbed one of her arms clenched at his chest, squeezing. "I will kill them."

A chill washed all over to her toes.

She believed him.

"Not now," she whispered. Her words were to be drowned out by the mess. Still, she repeated, "Please."

He didn't relax. He just looked down at her. Now she was finally close enough to distinguish a flash of blue from the shadows.

IIIIIIIII

He watched as the lights of the ambulance car disappeared into the foggy night. The flashing blues and reds burned themselves into his retina, leaving purple blotches on the leaves surrounding him.

Good.

It happened again.

 _You hurt Yukine._

The statement has already established itself as a chant inside his skull.

 _You hurt Yukine._

He knew he should've kept his stupid, moronic tongue tied. He knew it well. And yet.

 _You hurt Yukine._

"You hurt him."

Soundlessly, she posed herself onto the park bench next to him, rubbing her arms. She wasn't wearing a coat.

"And not only him. Why would you try to leave me like that?"

"You know why."

He wondered how could she stand the cold. The park wasn't too far from the club, but it couldn't have been a pleasant walk.

"And you hurt yourself."

His head dropped. "I guarantee you I have not."

It was a lie. Every cell of his body screamed- screamed bloody murder, screamed in agony, screamed for help. He wanted nothing more than to sit in that vehicle, to listen to his every heartbeat, to talk to whoever was tasked to fix him and find out if he was okay.

He chided himself. Yukine couldn't be okay.

"You know what is Father going to do if you don't return."

"I know."

"Then why?" Hiiro folded her hands in her lap, as still as a statue. "Why are you doing this to yourself? What in the world could possibly be worth all this hassle?"

"You don't understand." He wished she did, he wished with all his heart.

"Do you know what you are risking with the mess you made tonight? People are furious with us! Their whole evening was ruined by a pair of cheating children! And not only that- the Head Price, the whole system we run on- you made everything crumble! If Father doesn't figure out a way to fix this, he could be destroyed forever!"

"What a shame would _that_ be." He wondered if Hiyori and Yukine were already at the hospital by then. He sincerely hoped Hiyori really did choose the closest one.

"You can't mean that! Without him, you are nothing! You've got nowhere to go! Do you think _they_ ," she extended one of her bony fingers down the road, "would take you in? Even before tonight, all it took for that girl to suspect you was a few words."

Something nabbed on his mind. "What do you mean?"

No response.

"Hiiro."

Her obsidian eyes turned to him, expressionless.

"It was you, wasn't it."

"... Yes. But-"

He shoot off the bench, his hands tangled in his hair, hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat. "Of course," he wheezed, suddenly feeling delirious after the evening of dread, "Of course it would be you. Just as I was getting so close. Of course."

"She trusted me without a thought. She doesn't have faith in you, Yato."

"You would destroy whatever he tells you to, right?" His breath was coming out in huffs, he pressed his dirtied palms to his eyes. "Of course you would!" he screamed into the night.

"He could destroy _us,_ Yato!" she wailed, almost as loudly as him. A rain of pebbles landed on his feet as if somebody hurried to catch up to him and stopped abruptly.

Finally. He managed to break her freakish robot-like settings. He peeked out from his fingers.

"He won't let us go," she continued through gritted teeth, her pretty dollface now splotchy and red, a few inches away from his own, her fury making her seem older and stronger and so much more frightening, reminding him they were raised by the same home. "We both know how this would end. So please don't fight against it. Please."

"Well now, that's a simply ridiculous demand. All he's ever taught me is how to fight." He turned away. He knew where he needed to be, and his sister screaming in his face seemed a million years away as he made his way across the pathway.

"If you do this," she called after him, "he'll tell everybody what you did to her."

She didn't move to chase after him. Her hands were clutching at that ridiculous white dress. Her eyes were hidden behind the silky black bangs, her head retracted close to her chest. Now that he was further away, he noticed she stood in the silvery moonlight barefoot.

He wondered how he ever managed to mistake her for a person deserving of abiding.

"I already know I'm a monster," he called back, his gaze already following the path of the lights, remembering the outline of the city, "and I am afraid of him whatever he does."

 **IIIIIIII**

 **Hello there.**

 **This hiatus was the result of me not being a confident writer. I hope it doesn't happen again.**

 **Also, for the record, I know literally nothing about japanese undergroud and rich people's dirty underwear. Don't google anything, every plot rule enstablished from this point on is straight from my head.**

 **Thank you WatchMist1412, BlueAngel7810(I love reading your theories), LePengwen, goldenrock, MidnightRide129(I hope you can forgive me for leaving you hanging like that) and guests for reviews and making me smile.**


	11. Into the Starless Sky

_There was no clear idea of what he needed to do in his head that night. He simply felt a sharp tug settling itself beneath his chest, telling him to get on his feet, open the door and stalk down the bright corridors to the abandoned storeroom on the topmost floor. Although he'd already scrubbed the last bits of sand out of his hair and blood from his fingernails, that night it felt as if he was still able to feel them rubbing against his skin, crusting the cells and cutting off the oxygen supply and no matter how deeply he'd inhaled, it just couldn't get to his limbs, and he was about to fucking crumble down the stairs and crack his head open on the blinding tiles and-_

 _The window cracked open and cool night air swept the bangs off his heated forehead. In his struggle to get it to the rest of his body as fast as possible, he pricked his finger on a splinter near the corner of the window frame and cursed, only to clamp a hand over his mouth._ It's not like anyone could hear you, though, _he reminded himself while climbing out the rest of the way to the little grove in front of the building._

 _It wasn't until he was comfortably settled on his favourite branch that he learned how very wrong that assumption was._

 _At first he thought it was that annoying owl that had nested itself in one of the trees a few months ago disturbing his attempt at catching a peaceful moment- it wouldn't have been the first time. But then the sound repeated itself, louder and clearer, and he sat up straight._

 _There it was again._

 _Sobbing._

 _He craned his neck towards the direction where the source seemed to be, but it was too dark for him to see clearly. He contemplated investigating further, but then chided himself, laying back down on the damp bark. What would he do if he found out? Still, the sound continued filling the night air, heartbreak racking the breathing with terrified pauses. It was an unusual sound, one he couldn't remember ever hearing before - that poked at the curiosity pooling itself in his stomach, and he leaned away from the trunk again._

 _A twig gave away under one of his hands._

 _The sound stopped._

 _He recoiled, cursing himself and the damn piece of wood hitting the ground._

" _Hello?"_

 _A woman's voice, thick with emotion._

Great. _He cursed again. He turned to the window and slid down the branch, ready to run for it…_

… _and felt a tug at the back of his shorts._

 _The cloth ripped from the twig as soon as he was flipped midair and he landed unceremoniously in the wet grass._

Fuck.

" _Oh my god!" the voice screamed, mushy sounds of footsteps approaching. "Are you okay? What were you doing up there?"_

 _Silhouettes of two hands appeared in front of his face. He pushed himself off the ground and into a crouch, massaging the back of his head. Son of a_ bitch _, that hurt._

" _Um."_

 _He glanced upwards. The woman lowered her hands back to her sides, eyeing him suspiciously. She sniffled, and he suddenly remembered what was it she was doing just moments before._

" _Not to be paranoid," she started, "but I think there's blood on your hands."_

 _He blinked. Was she making a joke? Was she also present in the hall tonight? Women were rare customers, yes, but not unheard of. Was she able to tell who he was despite the dark? He sure as hell couldn't distinguish any worthwhile features of hers._

" _Can you answer? Or are you that hurt? Are you sure you didn't get a concussion? Come here, let me see." Before he could protest she reached out again and ushered him to his feet, leading him to a nearby stump and nudging him to sit down. Drowsy with surprise, he let her._

 _She produced a cell phone from somewhere and shone a flashlight right into his eyes. He gasped in surprise, leaning away._

" _Sorry!" she yelped. "I didn't mean… Here, come closer."_

 _The light was now illuminating one of her hands outstretched to him. It was an interesting hand, he noticed- not quite as small as Hiiro's, but fingers shorter and plumper and nails longer than his own. It reached to the back of his head and pain zapped against his skull. He inhaled sharply and bit his cheek, struggling to restrain a grimace._

" _Huh, it's not that bad. I think you just cut yourself on a pebble or something like that. The blood is flowing like crazy because it's a head wound, not because it's serious." The light slipped downwards. "But I guess you'd know that, being a fighter and all."_

 _His jaw fell open. So she'd known, after all._

" _Not hard to guess. You are quite well built, scar tissue here and there, and considering where we are right now..." The flashlight faltered. "Wait- are you… are you a contestant at the club?"_

 _He clenched his teeth. Definitely a customer._

 _And he wasn't wearing his mask._

… Shit.

 _He shot to his feet, colliding with the arm holding the cell, extinguishing the only source of light. The woman yelped and he blinked against the sudden darkness, blindly trying to retrace his steps around the mud. Which direction was the window again?_

" _Wait! I didn't mean- I mean, I am a contestant too, is what I wanted to say."_

That _stopped him in his tracks. Female customers? Okay. But female opponents?_

 _Female opponents on the Seventh Night?_

" _Have you even fought tonight? What's your name?" She has managed to get her flashlight on again._

 _Well, not much left to hide now, he figured. He saw her face- kinda. But she saw his gloriously illuminated._ It is only a matter of time until she finds out herself _, he rationalized. Yeah. Only a matter of time._

 _He gestured to his custom-made training shorts. One of the cuffs had his banner broadcasting his title for everyone to see at all times._

" _Ya… to? Yato? Is that your name?"_

 _He let out a huff of laughter. She probably took it as confirmation, because she continued, "I don't remember seeing you fight, sorry. But I also left early, so..." She cut herself off. She sniffed again._

 _And once again he was hit with the uncomfortable reminder that she was crying inconsolably when he'd found her._

" _I'm Sakura, by the way," she announced all of a sudden._

 _He twitched at that._

" _Sakura?" he wheezed._

" _Oh, so you can speak! Yup, that is what I'm called."_

 _If her name was Sakura, and she said she was a fighter here, and it was the Seventh Night…_

She's been frightened away, _he could hear Father's smug voice,_ but who could blame her? It wouldn't be the first time one of the Six got cold feet when the time to face god arrived.

 _Moreover, she slid the circle of light upwards, illuminating her face._

 _He was surprised to find out she wasn't a woman, but a girl who couldn't have been much older than himself. Her face hit him as unbelievably delicate- soft lips, narrow jaw, red-rimmed eyes only adding to the overall feeling of_ wrongness _that this face could belong to his world of stench and sand._

 _And so, what escaped his lips was a faint: "... You must be fuckin' amazing."_

" _Oh." There was a new note to her voice- how could she do that, weaving so many gradations of feelings so naturally through her words?- and a little chuckle followed. "Thank you. Although to be honest, I myself was surprised to enter the finals on the first try. There's a lot of… tough guys here."_

 _He felt his chest puff with a tinge of pride. "Well, finals ain't that hard."_

 _It was her turn to be stunned. "You have been in them? How..." She seemed to change her mind about the direction the question would take halfway. "... Have you won? Is it possible to beat the reigning champion?"_

 _He chuckled at that._ Yes. Not in a million years. _"You just gotta know your game and that's all."_

" _But that's the problem! I_ don't _know it!" She sighed. He was just about to point out that she should know at least a little bit, considering she has entered the Six on her first try when she materialized right in front of him, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her._

" _Please. You seem nice enough to ask this of you, and obviously you know your way around," she whispered feverishly, her eyes spread wide open and unblinking. "Please, take a moment to teach me. Work with me. I need it, I need to train to become a good enough fighter, but I have so much to learn, I need to-" her breath hitched. His fingers were being strangled. She looked ready to start crying again._

 _Sakura, one of the people he was supposed to deliver back home in a box tonight. Who managed to escape that destiny and happened to take a path which led her right to him instead, unmasked and unprepared._

It must have been fate, _he would think from that point on, every time he recalled himself agreeing to letting her continue down that new path, over and over again._

IIIII

" _Okay, so. The fights happen every night of the week. Sunday to Friday are open signups, and the participants battle each other until there's a winner for each day. Those winners are called the Six, and they face the reigning champion on Saturday. If the reigning champion is beaten, his Head Price gets knocked down to zero." Sakura opened her eyes and stopped counting on her fingers to shoot him a look over her shoulder. "Am I ready to hear what the Head Price means?"_

 _He sat up straighter in his place in the grass a few steps away from where she stood in the shadows. Whenever she asked another question, a wave of confidence washed down his back. "Once it became clear the reigning champion wasn't going to lose his title anytime soon, betting on the winner of Seventh Night lost on its importance and the club created a new betting system for him. The Head Price is all the money he'd earned up until now- the betting percentages, sponsorship deals, et cetera. The exact amount is displayed next to the ring, and it will be paid out once the champion loses the Night. Most bets on Saturday are placed on the amount of time spent in the ring or injuries, since betting on the outcome would be futile. If they do bet on it, then they bet on the god's defeat. The odds are never made public, to preserve the sense of… adventure. If it indeed happens, the money is paid out- one quarter to the winner, one to the ex-champion, one distributed between every person who bet on it the night he was defeated. Nobody bets big money on it, of course, but as you could have seen for yourself, it is already high enough to earn a decent amount with a few yen and some luck."_

" _So the Seventh Night is more about watching one guy massacre a bunch of people rather than earning money."_

 _He shrugged._

" _Calling the champion a god is still so weird to me," she sighed. "And discouraging. How could one defeat a god?"_

That's the point of the title, _he thought. "Well, you've seen him yesterday, no? Don't you have some ideas on how to fuck him up?"_

" _No, I can't think of any strategies to_ mess _him up," she corrected him and sighed again. "Besides, I've only seen a total of thirty seconds of his fight. It wasn't like… it was like something out of a nightmare. I don't think I could ever be ready to match him, not with my school-taught strategies and moves. Can you believe," she let out a dark grumble, "the first night they laughed at me like I was… They mocked me for not going out of the lines, for following official rules. Because that's not the fight they wanted to see, is it."_

 _He cocked his head to one side. "Why didn't you just… break the rules?"_

" _Because that would get me_ annihilated _in a real match. It's become a reflex by the time I turned seventeen. And I really really need to unlearn it and win a few nights… " She spun around. "That's it. Could you come here and teach me through practice?"_

… Oh _._

" _You want me to..." He gestured between them. "... to… fight you? Here?"_

" _Yes, please."_

" _In the trees?"_

" _Well, maybe we could go inside, if it bothers y-"_

" _No!" He was on his feet in an instant. "Fighting in between the trees. Sounds good. But… what if I hurt..." …_ you. _He slammed his lips shut. Since when was that something to bother him? "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."_

" _Please! I need help, Yato-sama, and you're the only one I could ask!"_

 _A warm feeling fluttered from the top of his chest to his toenails._

 _He liked being called that._

IIIII

" _I'm sorry!" he felt as if his eyes would pop out as his knees hit the ground next to her. "I didn't mean for it to connect! I fucked up, I am so sorry, you can punch me back if you want!"_

" _Don't worry, I'm fine. Head wounds, remember?" Sakura smiled through the pain, though the action only unnerved him further- her teeth were red, red, red._

 _He helped her sit up. There was a gash on the side of her face his fist caught a moment earlier. "That doesn't count for this kind of things."_

" _My tongue is still attached to my mouth, so it can't be that bad." She twisted in his arms to take a look at the ripped seam of her pants. "That, on the other hand, is another story. You managed to get quite a grip on them considering I took my eyes off of you for_ one second _."_

"Never _take your eyes off of your opponent," he barked, only to catch her smile widening._

" _See? Even now, me winning is what you're thinking about." She coughed, accepting a bottle of water and a towel from him. "You are really good at being a teacher, you know? Once you finish school you should look more into it. And you've picked up the base rules of an official match in a blink! You're a good student, too."_

 _He only stared back._

" _Maybe that was a weird observation at the moment, okay." She shrugged and took a gulp of water. He watched her exposed neck bobbing as she swallowed, the skin moving traces of dirt and five days' worth of small bruises and scrapes peppered across it. Again, an unfamiliar feeling of guilt pooled around in his guts._

" _We should stop for today," he announced unnecessarily loudly and lay down, casting his gaze towards the sky. The sun was just beginning to rise, and today was the first dawn of the week completely clear of summer stormclouds. The world was all gray with traces of yellow and pink._

 _Has he ever been awake and out at this hour before?_

 _He felt watched. Vulnerable._

 _His gaze slid back to Sakura and he found her observing him, the smile gone from her face. It somehow unnerved him and he squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable in a different way. How weird was it, to want someone he's known for a few days to smile at him as often._

" _I think you should sign up for tonight's battle," he blurted out._

" _What?"_

" _Uh." He felt his face reddening. "I just thought… You wanted to… And I think you are better now than the first time we've fought. So. You could go and win yourself a place among the Six tonight or some shit. If you wanna."_

" _Are you… praising me?"_

 _He pressed his lips together and nodded._

 _She was still for a heartbeat, half her face obscured by the towel pressed against her wounded cheek. Then, finally, the smile was back, less red and more pinkish this time, and she elegantly prostrated herself on the ground next to him._

" _You're right, I should get moving. I mean, the whole point of coming here was to just do it and be done with it, so..." She reached up with her free hands, as if to run her fingers through the soft clouds above them. "But I am so scared. I know I am not allowed to feel it, but this place is… it's terrifying to me. I have been to the ring every night for two weeks, and every time I enter get this feeling I will never be able to get out again, that this world would grab me and swallow me whole and I will never be able to get away from it ever again. And I haven't even participated since that one fight." Her words were coming out muffled now, and he was afraid he knew the reason why. "But I will let down someone I care about if I give up now, and I see no other option for myself. Nothing."_

 _His heart was ramming against his chest. His mind swam with ideas, impulses, solutions to the problem he knew nothing about, but would give so much to solve._

 _The bruises he left on her were a completely different shade than the sky above them, and unmeasurably uglier._

 _He gathered all the courage he could and started a story which has never before been spoken out loud._

IIII

" _What are you doing?"_

 _He glanced up at Hiiro standing in his doorway, her little fists bunched around the bottom of her jacket. He raised his hands to enable her a better look at the items scattered around the desk and floor around him. "I've found this nice book on crocheting up in the attic, so I'm trying it out. Wanna join?"_

" _Don't be ridiculous," she puffed. "I'm talking about how you blatantly ignored Father's requests when you fought this Friday's winner tonight. You took her down in less than one minute! And she was the last fight of the night! Do you know what kind of an unsatisfying climax of the entire week that was for the audience?"_

" _Hey, it's not my fault she shat herself the moment she entered the ring."_

" _But she didn't. You went easy on her. Why? Because she was a girl? You never go easy on_ me. _"_

 _He looked down his nose at her. "Hiiro, you're_ nine. _You honestly think I'm giving it all I've got when we spar?"_

 _She answered with an ice-cold glare and a blank face. "Do not underestimate me, Yaboku. And please, don't waste your time on such useless activities."_

" _They are very useful. It can get very boring, being cooped up in here all day. You are still welcomed to join me whenever you wish," he called after her only half seriously as she soundlessly slid out the door._

" _You are acting weird," she hissed instead of a goodbye._

IIIII

" _Well, better than last week, that's for certain. It's no Head Price, but..." Sakura closed the satchel and exhaled. "Plenty to make the pain I went through to get it worthwhile."_

 _His shoulders tensed instantly. "I'm so sorry. I was trying to avoid anything too bad, but it still had to look real, so I tried to-"_

" _It's fine, it's fine. I'm sorry it came out wrong." Her grasp on the satchel strengthened. "I am thankful for what you are doing for me. This kindness… Yato, it means more than I could even begin to explain."_

" _It's fine," he shrugged. It_ was _fine. But it reminded him, "We'll have to be more careful from now on, though. The fights should be longer at least, to make it more entertaining."_

" _Make drawing blood more entertaining, huh…" A brief shadow passed over her eyes. "Maybe we can try choreographing? If we figure out how to time our moves and steady the pace on which I take impact…" She brought her fingers to her lips and fell silent, gazing intensely into the shadows of the leaves towards the alley. He could see a plan taking shape behind them and he leaned against the nearby trunk to witness it forming._

IIIII

" _Who gets the fourth part?"_

 _Yato mumbled, startled out of the weak dream-like state the starry night hypnotized him into._

" _Of the Head Price," Sakura explained without turning her head, her eyes fixed upwards. "One part to the winner, one to the defeated champion, one to the people. What about the rest?"_

" _The investors. You know the guys in black behind that glass wall next to that balcony floating in the air?"_

 _She laughed. "Not the way I'd describe it, but I get what you mean, yes."_

" _They are the most important patrons of the club. Their finances were what made it a reality on the scale that it has reached today. They are Father's business partners, so to speak."_

" _Really, where is this world going? What kind of monsters have paid to see this become a reality?" He felt her elbow leaving its place next to his as she hugged herself. "Does seeing a bunch of poor men beating each other up in unhygienic circumstances really bring them that much joy? A nesting place of gambling, illegal substance dealing, unfixable injuries, and I've even heard there were… I heard some people weren't even lucky enough to get away with just that."_

 _There it was, the unbearable punch of guilt that hit him every time her voice adopted that hurt tone. It was a bit unrealistic, really, because it wasn't him who'd raised the Masked Ones from the ground. He might have been participating and taking advantage of the situation, but- He needed her to know that… that these past few weeks changed his perception of his own role in it._

 _The shame was still hot behind his eyes so he kept them focused on the constellation above - Andromeda, he remembered. "The club is way older than you and me, you know," he started. "I don't think the world is going anywhere it hasn't been going for a long time already."_

 _Sakura opened her mouth, but then gave up on whatever she meant to say. He was just about to ask her what it was when she whispered, "You don't even know how old I am."_

 _Yato shrugged. It felt as if he did, so he'd never asked._

" _It's been a few months since I've finished high school."_

 _He nodded as he struggled to remember the schooling system he'd read about such a long time ago. "I am 18, too." Then, out of mere curiosity, he asked, "What school do you go to now?"_

" _Now, I go to my club every day, but that can't really be considered a school. It's more like… a hobby, although more serious. A second family, I guess. No real attachments or pressure, we all cheer each other on and you just… can't feel overly competitive there, you know? We're all there because we like it, and not because we have to be."_

 _She paused, but it wasn't a type of silence offering a chance to answer, so he waited for her to continue. "In September I was supposed to… I was supposed to travel overseas, where I'd go to a really nice college. I was so excited when I found out I was accepted. We've been saving up for that ever since I was a little girl, so it felt like fate, right?" The next words came out as a hushed song, as if she was afraid they would become true just by being said out loud. "I hate to think that I was wrong, and that I won't get to see that fate coming true after all. Time is running out, and I don't think I can-"_

" _You are so close to your goal, Sakura," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Only a few short weeks, and you will have enough. You are already so popular in the ring, so respected that your sponsorship income just keeps growing, and soon you will be clear, and after that maybe you can keep coming here to replace your college fund, too."_

 _He knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear the instant it left his mouth. Her gaze hardened as she brought up one hand upwards. Reaching for the sky, reaching for the hundreds of thousands of little lights puncturing the darkness._

I don't want to be swallowed by this world.

But _I_ don't want to have to say goodbye to you, _he wanted to scream._

" _What I meant was," he struggled to regain his grip on the conversation, "you can't give up just yet."_

 _She finally turned her head to face him. Because of their positions, she was upside down to him, but he could still perfectly read the tension flowing out of her expression. Mentally, he thanked every god he knew of._

" _Well, I certainly can't once my teacher forbids it," she laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, Yato-sama."_

 _He liked it when Sakura called him that._

IIIII

 _Careful not to make a sound, Yato closed the metal door and the blackness of the room swallowed him. It did not bother him- he'd been making this route almost every night for weeks upon weeks. He knew exactly how many steps forward was he allowed to make to avoid the tall, empty shelf around the middle of the space, and that there was a metal grate to the right from the window that would make a lot of noise if he stepped over it. That was why, when his outstretched arm connected with something soft and warm that most certainly wasn't supposed to be there, he instantly turned around and bolted back towards the hallway._

" _Yato! Wait!"_

 _He spun back, his heart in his throat. "Sakura! Is that- What are you doing here? Why aren't you waiting in the front?"_

" _Sorry, I wanted to surprise you. I have some good news and wanted to make a dramatic entrance, I guess."_

" _Don't do this to me, I almost sha- Wait." He narrowed his eyes at where he assumed was the girl. "What news?"_

" _This!" There was some ruffling, and then silence._

" _Uh… If you are showing me a piece of paper, you should know that you scared me shitless_ because it was too dark in here for me to notice you in the first place. _"_

" _Oh! Right! Sorry." A silhouette appeared against the faint light coming through the window and he followed her outside._

 _When they broke out of the trees, she instantly spun herself around, sways of material swirling around her, a giddy smile on her face._

" _You-" he stammered. "Did you wear_ that _to the arena?"_

 _She patted her floral skirt. "No. I haven't gone to the arena tonight at all, in fact. But that is because..." She waved a piece of paper in front of his face and he leaned in to check it out._

 _He needed some help to get through the page- it turned out it was an official letter. Each word settled itself on his chest, realization dawning on him and filling him with happiness, so much of it, but also…_

" _You made it," he croaked. "You have managed to save your mother."_

" _Well, this is just a notification the first portion of payment made it through and she'll be accepted into the program, but it is definitely a start! And look," she poked one line, "turns out they won some kind of a medical innovation contest and were awarded with a nice amount of fundings, and it means the price of the treatment would go down almost a half! Which means I'll need only one, maybe two more wins before..."_

" _... Before you're free."_

 _Sakura raised her eyes to Yato's. His grip on the paper tightened slightly. "Before I'm free," she whispered, awestruck. "I will never have to set foot among the Masked Ones ever again. I will go overseas with my mother, and enroll into my dream school, and all thanks to you, Yato."_

 _He felt his cheeks redden._ You wouldn't be as thankful if you knew what I really think about it. _"Not at all. It was all you. You earned every single coin of that money yourself. I was just a stepping stone."_

" _How can you say that?" she touched her fingers to her lips, taking one step away from him. "If there weren't for you, I would never have found the strength to return to that arena! If you didn't take pity on me, if your heart wasn't big enough to let you take me in, I would be hopeless! You are brave, and smart, and a wonderful person altogether, and you know what? You do not belong here, either."_

 _He gritted his teeth. "Sakura, don't-"_

" _But it's true!" She approached him again and grabbed his free hand. "I can see this place is killing you, and I can see you know it too. You could come with me. I know this is the only home you've ever known, but maybe- maybe, if we were sneaky about it like we were all this time, you could disappear. Nobody would think to search for you across half the world, would they? You are smart enough- you've learned nearly all the official rules to all of the major martial arts since I've arrived- and you are good at English, so you have many options open, if only you managed to sever your ties to this place. Please. Let me repay you for giving my family another chance at life."_

 _He felt pinned to the floor under that hopeful expression. He knew this was when he was supposed to burst her bubble, to explain just how impossible covering his tracks would be, how futile would any attempt at his salvation end up being._

 _But now he was Yato, and he couldn't do it._

 _So he only chuckled and shook his head. "Not smart enough, I guess." He pointed to the bottom of the page. "I can't even figure out how to read this."_

 _She looked ready to object to the change of subject, but her gaze slipped to the paper and her expression softened. She took a moment to answer. Her fingers shifted, intertwining with his own. "Tamanone," she voiced at last. "That is my real name."_

 _For some reason, this knowledge took all the breath out of his lungs._

" _Tamanone..." he repeated, testing the shape the new syllables on his tongue, "... -chan."_

 _She laughed at this. "Well, friends call me Tama-chan. But yes, that's what everybody else knows me by. It feels a bit weird telling you, since you've only ever known me as Sakura. It feels like I've been caught in a lie."_

 _It did feel weird. But he just responded, "If it makes you feel any better, my real name isn't Yato, either."_

 _She bunched up her nose. "I know. It's Yaboku."_

 _He nodded in response and she squeaked. "Ahh, that is so embarrassing! I can't believe I've been calling you the wrong name all along! I've noticed it after seeing your first fight, but I felt too awkward to ask you or just change the way I call you so suddenly, and-"_

" _It's fine,." He shrugged. "I like it. Please keep calling me that."_

 _There was a faint sound of a clock going off in the distance._

" _Oh! I should get back home! We are celebrating tonight, Mom and I." She snatched the letter from his hands. "See you tomorrow, Yato-sama!"_

 _And then she stepped closer and gave him a strong, lingering hug. He reached around her instantly, his heart practically punching a hole through his ribcage._

Ouch.

 _Only as she was waving goodbye, disappearing behind the corner, did he remember to answer her. "S-see you tomorrow," he yelled after her, "Tamanone!"_

 _There was faint laughter coming behind the bend._

" _Tamanone!" he repeated even louder, the heat of giddiness rushing to his head, "Tama-chan!" The laughter continued._

 _It felt liberating. It felt as if a whole new world opened up before him just by learning those few syllables, a world vast and filled with wonder and possibilities, his own fading in comparison._

 _And later, he would always wonder how could he have allowed himself to enjoy that one moment, that one fleeting feeling, how could he not have realized it would come to cost him everything._

IIIII

 _No matter how much she protested against it, how much he knew she hated it, the fact was still there - surrounded by dirt and blood and screams, she managed to look absolutely wonderful. A contrast able to take anyone's breath away, if judging by the adoring crowd roaring as she spun and dodged her way across the ring._

 _He hasn't been to the week-long fights in years, but lately he's been feeling much more inspired to return to his seat in the balcony. Or at least those nights when Sakura fought for her place in yet another Seventh Night._

 _He struggled to keep his hands steady in his cloak as the judge proclaimed her the Friday's victor, struggled to prevent himself from getting onto his feet and clap with the rest of the hall. But he knew she would hate if he praised her in public, if people wouldn't be able to understand he wasn't praising her bloodlust or savagery- and he knew Father would hate him showing respect to his opponent._

 _He glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. He sat to his left, his chin leaned against his hand as if he was lost deep in thought - but there was a flicker of delight dancing in his eyes that usually made Yato brace for a storm. As if he felt the gaze, he turned to him and offered him a lazy grin._

" _What a woman, that little cherry spirit," he mused, leaning closer to Yato's seat. "One of these days I can't help but to wonder if she might beat you one day."_

 _Yato smothered an impulse to roll his eyes._ After tonight, there would be no "one day". _"We'll see about that."_

 _Father chuckled. "All fired up and ready to go, huh? That's my boy. But since I do want you to save yourself for the spectacle, you should keep your cool." He eyed an empty glass next to Yato's seat. "You seem to be in need of a refill. Again."_

 _Ignoring the scolding in his tone, Yato merely nodded as the man passed him a new full glass from the stand on his other side. His father wasn't particularly overjoyed with his drinking habits, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not tonight._

 _Not this last night of his happiness._

 _And the first night of hers._

 _He sipped bitterly, wishing the liquor was some acid that would melt through his damn selfish neck, as Father continued: "In fact, I wanted your input concerning one matter. It seems I have been completely, hopelessly bewitched by this lady, and am considering inviting her to join our… inner circle."_

 _The liquid burst up Yato's throat, alcohol burning its way underneath his skin. He gasped a string of curses, rubbing at his nose. "W- what?"_

" _Sure, our usual aesthetic consists of bulky bald men with a horrid sense for personal hygiene, but I believe we could attract some interest by presenting a new entry for our menu. Imagine it- to buy yourself a soft-mannered warrior and have her use her small, delicate hands for gouging out your rival's eyes... She would be a favorite, don't you think?"_

 _She would. He could see those perverts relishing in having her carrying out their sadistic orders, savoring each drop of blood she painted onto her hands for their sake._

 _Unthinkably grateful for the mask obscuring his expression, he grit his teeth and leaned back, swinging one leg over his armrest. "Right," he growled, "and I suppose we could also send Hiiro down there while we're at it?"_

 _Father cocked his head. "Care to explain?"_

" _She finishes every fight as fast as she can. She approaches each opponent on her toes, ready to bolt, and I still don't believe her accomplishments have come from her skill alone. It doesn't really matter- sooner or later she will be put down by someone who won't feel like letting her dance around and make a fucking idiot out of them. For now, I am one of them, and that is why she will_ never _beat me. Little bitch hasn't one bone of severity in her. She is simply not like the other Masked Ones." He forced himself to spit out that last statement, as if it was a put-down and not the most amazing thing that has ever happened to him._

" _You feel quite strongly about this. You aren't jealous, are you? You're almost too old for it to be cute, you know."_

 _Yato shrugged, praying the satisfaction of mockery would be enough to end this conversation._

 _Father slid his eyes back onto the girl making victorious rounds around the ring. "You might have a point there," he mused, and Yato let his shoulders dip slightly. "But there is not one person who can beat you in this entire_ country _, so I am not sure if you are the appropriate scale in this case. Well, anyway," he laughed and stretched his arms above his head, propelling himself out of the seat in an unusually childish way, "time to finish up here!"_

 _Yato nodded at his back, his pulse slowly returning to normal. He could never have imagined… He'd never have thought they might go overboard. That she might earn unwanted attention with her victories- it usually took at least a year of successful conquers for his Father to pick another fighter to employ._

 _Nobody refused such an offer. And he had to make sure she didn't have to become that "nobody", no matter how fucking sad and pathetic it made him feel._

 _He downed the drink, his raw throat screaming in response, as Father spread his arms over the railing and boomed, "And so, here we are, people, another night in which we crown Sakura as one of the Six! She is to face one more foe before she reaches for the top, a land of opportunity spreading out before her."_

 _Yato grunted a laugh, a champion confident in his position._

" _He's traveled across the country to challenge our Masked Ones, to see if he would find a worthwhile opponent among our mortal ranks. And so, please welcome a special guest tonight, the White Komodo!"_

 _The crowd roared in time with a rush of memories over flooding him._

 _Chains. Scars. Whole afternoons of unending streams of violent wishes._

 _He slammed his feet against the floor, shaking slightly. "He- he's here?"_

 _Father ignored him, but he wasn't sure if it was out of malice or simple inability to hear him above the deafening screams rising from under the balcony. A man appeared on the deserted catwalk, his bulging muscles casting threatening shadows as he spread his unnaturally pale arms to greet the crew. He too bore a mask on his face, but Yato knew what hid underneath it - the scarred lips pulling tight over crooked, almost pointy teeth, those ice blue eyes that always seemed to light up as Father issued another command for Yato to be taught a lesson. His stomach pulsed in revulsion, the scars along his hairline answering in kind as if they were being burned and carved and beaten into his skin all over again._

Not so pretty anymore, eh, boy?

 _Grasping the armrests, struggling to keep himself tethered to the present, his eyes frantically searched for Sakura in the mess. He found she was already staring up at him, her shoulders raised as if asking him,_ What now? _She didn't know about the man, of course she didn't. Otherwise she wouldn't be so relaxed when facing-_

Oh fuck _._

" _What... is the meaning of this?" he asked, praying the low volume of his voice could be read as disapproval and not utter horror. "How come he's here? And why would you choose to have one of the most respected fighters in the country fight a normal member of the club? Shouldn't he…" He had to pause to take a breath for his next suggestion, shoving the refusal back into his gut, "... He should fight the best of the best. The champion. Why present a second-rate to him? He might get offended."_

 _Father finally grinned at him. "Oh, no. I've already had a chat about this with him. He is completely on-board with the plan." He turned back towards the railing. His next words were so casual and Yato's head was spinning so badly that, at first, he thought he'd misheard him: "So feel free to sit back and enjoy the show, Yato."_

 _A heartbeat._

No.

" _And he's in the ring! Oh, what a spectacle this would be!"_

No.

" _Dad, don't." Yato's teeth were now chattering against each other, making it hard to speak. "Dad, I will do whatever you want, I'll never speak another word to anyone ever again, I'll win you whatever number of fights you want, just don't do this."_

 _Father spun around and leaned against the railing, pondering. "See, that would be a great bargain, if it wasn't expected from you already. And also - this is not for me, it's for_ you _."_

 _The bell rang._

 _The man started circling around lazily. Sakura followed his suit, dropping down into an elegant crouch as she moved, waiting for his attack and her own opening dodge-counterattack._

Maybe it could be okay, _a little voice inside his head suggested._ She might see through his moves - after all, she's fought you enough times to recognize his style.

 _But no, he knew that wouldn't be the case even before the first of his punches connected to her torso with a sickening_ crack.

 _As if some invisible bonds snapped, he pounced towards the railing, ready to throw himself down there, without being able to form an actual plan in his muddled head, when the floor wobbled under his feet and he stumbled into Father._

" _Wha-"_

 _Father gripped his shoulders and heaved him away from himself, letting Yato's head to slam against the metal. "See? I've been trying to tell you: drinking isn't good for you!"_

 _But it couldn't be the alcohol - it wasn't supposed to make him feel as if he were slowly detaching from his body, unable to act, his stomach somersaulting, his fingers twitching uncontrollably._

 _He took one look at his father's smug expression and remembered the last glass passed to him._

Son of a bitch.

 _Gasping as if his lungs were on the edge of bursting, he glanced into the pit to see Sakura was still on her feet. But her face… Her mask was lying half-buried into the sand a few meters to her left, but her face was so severely beaten it seemed she was still wearing one. Red and purple framed the bloodied snarl she was showing to her opponent, streaked with tears. She was limping, one arm gripping her middle. Not all of the injuries were from that single fight. She has beaten men bigger and stronger than her a few times that night already, and every time she won her title, she needed a good rest and time to heal. Having her face an opponent such as this after such a night…_

" _Please." Yato's voice was barely a little more than a series of gurgles and growls. "I'm begging you. Please."_

" _Won't you run, little spirit?" Yelled Father and Sakura stilled, angling her head without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. "Maybe if you performed one of your magical escapades as you did that first finale, you would feel better? You wouldn't get your money, of course, and I don't know how would the gentlemen here like that, but-"_

 _The crowd muted his words with their whistles and protests and rude remarks. Sakura grit her teeth, eyeing the arms spreading towards her from beyond the ropes. Defiance shone in her gaze._

 _With a fierce swing, the monster kicked towards Sakura. She twisted to the side, landing on her injured leg, and hit the ground at the same time the foot connected to her shoulder. A small yelp sounded, as if she was holding herself back._

 _He braced himself and tried again. "After tonight, she will disappear. You will never have to see her again."_

" _Well, that_ is _what I'm counting on." Father was leaning his elbows on the railing, casually gazing at that monster as he kicked Sakura again as the crowd roared in approval as hotly as they cheered_ her _on only half an hour ago. "Though our Tamanone silently disappearing into the night would be quite an unsatisfying ending for such a long, exciting run. After all, I had plans for her, so she should try and repay my lost investitions."_

 _Every word was another knife to Yato's chest. Of course he'd known all along. Of-fucking-_ course _Father'd managed to find out about her. "Then why didn't you make her go away earlier? Why this?"_

" _This way she will at least have something to show for her trials. I am not an asshole, Yaboku, I won't ask for the money you two swindled oh-so-happily. My friends tell me she needs it quite badly. I simply wanted to show you what happened when she encountered… How did you word it? 'She will be put down by someone who won't feel like letting her dance around and make an idiot out of them'?" He chuckled and clapped his hands together. "But you were the idiot, after all. You prepared her for this as much as I did; you made her believe she would be safe, that you could somehow keep the monsters we keep in here on the leash, when you yourself had yours on that very moment. And now look what's happened. She really believes she could make it."_

 _He wanted to scream,_ No, it isn't true, _but there was no space left for such pointless denial. He knew it was his fault. He knew he was the one who brought her to this point, who chained her to the very spot where she was now being tortured and played with and he couldn't have done a thing._

 _He couldn't take it back. He couldn't make it right._

 _She still looked wonderful, but he wished he never had to see that particular sort of wonderful. Her eyes were burning with a fire he's never seen before, a sort of fear-striking protest as she was brought down into the sand again and again and again, but never losing that purposeful aura. But each time she got up slower. Each time it took her longer to make an attempt at giving away some punches herself._

" _This is all on you as much as it is on me."_

 _Tears were smearing his face, blurring his vision as was being hoisted into the air as if she was nothing but a ragdoll. He recognized the position, the arched back, the unmoving bend of the arm she was trying so hard to bite or scratch or weaken some other way. Her brown hair tangled into her teeth and his fingers gripping hard around her neck, one of her legs stuck between both of his. Her movements became jerky, uneven, and the cheers from the audience gradually rose to a chaotic pandemonium._

 _No._

" _Please." He sobbed, his teeth scraping against the hard metal. This couldn't happen. This wasn't going to happen. "I can't..."_

 _Suddenly, as if a switch was pressed, silence enveloped the entire room. The monstrous fighter turned his head towards their balcony, and some small, smug part of Yato noticed there was a nasty cut crossing his left eye._

" _Are you are giving up?" a cold voice flew down to the pit._

 _Yato sobbed harder, pressing his cheek down in the puddle of his own spit and tears to gaze at his father's square-shouldered form looming above him. "Thank you," he gasped, knowing it came out as a series of indistinguishable gasps, but unable to stop as gratefulness filled his head. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank y-"_

 _A crunch. A splat. A snap._

" _I guess that means no_. _"_

 _Yato took one last look into the pit and passed out as the roars and screams of the audience filled his ears again._

IIIII

 _There was no clear idea of what he needed to do in his head that night as he patted down the hollow tree he knew she was usually hiding her things while she was at the matches. Finally, he pulled out a violet-and-black sports bag and set it down, careful to pick out the least-muddy spot of grass. If he remembered correctly, she's been carrying around some prospects for the last couple of days - to "pin them at different schools and find some fresh meat". She probably wouldn't be too happy to know he went snooping around her private property._

 _She wouldn't be happy to find out she never managed to get out after all._

 _He hoped she didn't know that, that wherever she went didn't let her remember it._

 _His heart let out a dull throb, a too-familiar feeling. He wondered if he would ever get used to it._

 _He couldn't imagine it._

 _But then again, he could imagine very little these past few days._

They have to know, _he reminded himself._ They have to know what happened to her. They deserve to know. _His hands were tainted enough as they were - and touching the dead girl's belongings wasn't the worst he'd ever done to her._

 _He fished out a stack of bright yellow papers. After skipping through the text and confirming the contents, he focused on the marking on top of the page, just to make sure he had the right place._

 _Yes, that was it. He could recognize the black symbol from the keychain she'd shown him -_ Hafuri.

 _Double checking the address framed in the lower left corner and his pocket for the money, Yato hauled Tamanone's bag over his shoulder and stepped out into the downpour obscuring any car lights, any streetlamps, any stars._

IIIII

 **Well. That went quite the opposite way than I've expected.**

 **Biiig thanks to ChillySundae (I hope this update lets you sleep), Meta-Akira (yup my imagination eloped with the underground fights), BlueAngel7810 (tbh I am not sure myself how far would I go in the torture department) and OneLivesAgain (a series of tumblr sketches and a looong conversation with an awesome person. Also welcome to our fandom!) for your comments~**


	12. About Time

**About time**

Sometime around the beginning of her eight hour of waiting, Hiyori began to list off all the bad things that led up to that point, mainly to force herself to stay awake.

First was the obvious- Yukine had been shot. The poor boy was currently somewhere behind those white double doors, undergoing an operation. Or maybe he was already done and was sleeping off the drugs. Or maybe-

Moving on.

She still felt terribly uncertain about her hospital choice. At the time she was too panicked to think of any other option, taking comfort in knowledge that her father' hospital was on the other side of the city anyway, and dropping her name to bump the boy ahead on the waiting list would save no time at all if he bled out on their way there. So instead she borrowed one of the nurse's cellphones and called Yama-chan, praying her internship schedule remained the same as last term's. She was in luck - the girl asked no questions as she unlocked the back entrance for them, accompanied by a grim-faced doctor. Still, there were no telling whether or not she would attract unwanted attention.

Moreover, since Yukine wasn't admitted through the regular process, she had no way of asking for updates on his status.

Tired, alone, and scared beyond her wits, she waited through the night slumped in the plastic seat. _Yukine was shot, I am a coward, and I have no idea what's happening._

She remembered another thing. _Yukine was shot, I am a coward, Yato is gone, and I have no idea what's happening._

And then, as if on cue, the waiting room doors opened, a faint trace of dawn light illuminating a man's panting form. His eyes scanned the scarce crowd, landing on her.

Hiyori's head cleared of fatigue and a hurricane of emotions swarmed into its place.

He had been lying to them. He was lying, feeding them half-truths and lulling them into false sense of security, and now Yukine was hurt.

With every step he took to approach her, the realization boomed achingly inside her head.

Instead of taking the plastic seat next to her, he claimed the one connected by its back to hers. He said nothing. She couldn't see his face anymore, but she knew he was still on the verge of tears, a picture of regret. Nothing like the terrifying mask of fury from when he demanded who was it that hurt Yukine.

Tonight he helped them, too.

Yato risked his own life for them.

Just as Yukine did.

" _I jumped- not him- they tried to-"_

She buried her nails into the exposed skin of her arm. She wished she didn't lose her coat, even if she was aware that this particular sort of chill wouldn't be dispatched by more clothing.

Yato cleared his throat.

She braced herself.

"How… how is he?"

Hiyori let out a breath. "I don't know. Nobody is telling me anything."

"Do you think..." His already faint voice dissolved.

"No. I would hear about that. My friend wouldn't let me… she'd tell me if..."

She felt him moving in his seat. "Thank you. And to your friend. I'm guessing it was complicated for you to do it, with you being here secretly and all, and I want you to know I truly appreciate-"

"Of course. Oh, god, of course." His rushing words crumpled the last strands of her control and she spun around to face his doubled-over form. "Yato, I would do anything for him, and I know you would too. What you went to do the night of the party - what you did tonight - proves that. Even if you feel like I wouldn't believe it considering everything else that happened, I can't oppose that."

His hands gripped his head even tighter. "... Thank you."

"You don't think so."

He didn't move.

"You are still convinced it was all your fault."

He tried to shake his head.

Hiyori bit her lip. "Well, it kind of is. You and your antics were the reason Yukine and I were at that… den… tonight. I do not feel good about that, but I can assure you: you weren't what got him wounded. He chose it himself. He told me. So, while you should carefully reconsider your life choices, taking full blame instead of Yukine's loyalty and selflessness would be headlessly noble, and thus utterly unbefitting of you."

He wiped his nose on his wrist. She noticed it was still dirty with the contents of that sand pit.

Her pulse drummed again, and she might have gotten mad again if the doors to the private part of the hospital didn't burst open.

She jumped to her feet, Yato mimicking her. But it wasn't one of the hospital staff marching towards them.

"Warner-san? What is-" She yelped, surprised when the man grabbed her hand.

There was madness in his eyes. His blonde hair was dishevelled, his shirt done up one button off. He barely moved his lips as he hissed, "What the _fuck_ were you idiots thinking? Where did you even get an idea to- to take him- to take my son-"

Hiyori snapped free of his hold on her, stumbling back into Yato, who was halfway over the seats already. "I am sorry, Warner-san. I cannot apologize enough for-"

"Oh, don't give me that shit!" He jabbed his finger at Yato. "You knew all too well what you were getting us into! It was your plan all along, wasn't it- In plain sight-"

"Please, sir! You're disturbing other patients!"

Warner-san hurriedly apologized to the spooked nurse, smoothing his hair back. He shot Yato another dirty look before speeding off in the direction of the exit.

"I didn't even notice him coming in," Hiyori whispered. "Seems like Yukine told him."

Yato hummed. "I wonder."

 _Yukine was shot, I am a coward, Yato was gone but came back, Yukine's father knows everything, and I have no idea what's happening._

"Uh, excuse me? Are you Iki-san?"

Hiyori turned to the nurse, who was still waiting nearby. "I am. Why?"

"I have been sent for you. Your friend is awake."

Hiyori's hands flew to her mouth. Yato stumbled the rest of the way over the chair. "Can we- can we-"

The nurse eyed Yato but didn't comment. "Follow me, please."

Hiyori couldn't register a single thing about the hallway they were led down except the time it took them to reach the small, unmarked doors. But as her gaze fell to the blonde boy laid down in the heap of sheets, his upper body wrapped in layers of bandages, the emotions returned in full force, relief forcing tears to her eyes.

"Yukine-kun!" She sobbed, collapsing on her knees next to his bed. "How do you feel, Yukine-kun?"

"Hiyori… You…. still here?"

"I haven't moved, Yukine-kun. I've been waiting for news. You sound weak- How are you feeling?"

His pale lips twisted into a small grin. "Yeah… You look like… shit..."

Hiyori laughed, liberation hoisting her into the air as well as any wings. "I'm sorry. Nobody'd let me know you were already done."

"He just woke up, actually!" The nurse chimed in, smiling. "The intern who admitted him instructed me to go get you as soon as he does, so you'd be the first to know! Well, I'll leave you to it. Call for me if you need anything."

As the clicks of her heels faded down the hall, Hiyori turned to Yukine. "We saw your father in the waiting room, though…"

He huffed. "What? Why... did you contact him?"

"I didn't! You heard it- I had a friend take us in off record. I don't know how could he have found out."

"Hmmm… Where are we?"

Hiyori recited the address.

"Figures." He nodded. "The owner is one of his bosses... People know him around here."

Hiyori's mouth fell open. "So your father is a doctor?"

"Yeah... but he is currently working as a director replacement."

She shook her head. "My parents own a hospital. Father is a doctor, too. Small world."

Yukine cocked his head. "Huh. I hope... they don't know each other." Hiyori recalled the highly uncomfortable dress party they'd all attended a few months back, but without missing a beat, he focused on Yato, who was still standing on the other side of the doorway. "You… you came."

Yato straightened up, as if snapping out of a trance. "Uh..."

"What, you think bullet wounds are contagious?"

Yato's face crumpled. "Yukine… I..."

"Stop that shit and just explain what happened. I hope you don't expect me to just peacefully regret ending up in a hospital for you."

Hiyori stared at the boy. He looked so… cogent, even when connected to a number of tubes, even when there were still traces of drug side effects visible in his honey-colored eyes. So much more confident than she herself felt about Yato. So trusting, when her faith was quaking.

A spark of pride warmed her.

Yato's train of thought seemed similar to hers as he gaped at Yukine. "You would be willing to listen? Even after what you saw?"

Yukine motioned as if he would shrug if he didn't have a raw wound in his shoulder. "As Hiyori said all that time ago, I don't really believe you are a bad guy. If I did, you'd have a bullet stuck in your spine right now."

Hiyori nodded in agreement. If sarcastic, moody Yukine-kun believed giving their friend a chance to explain himself was worth it, she believed it to be a good call.

Yato's lip wobbled. He slowly crept into the room and closed the door,

The first thing he did when he'd arrived was not to try and justify himself. He honestly came wanting to know if the boy would be okay.

And somehow, Hiyori thought as he began his story, that made everything fall into perspective more than anything.

IIIIIIIIIII

"You don't want the therapy? Oh, too bad."

Yukine blinked in confusion at Suzuha, who was curled up atop the blanket Yato brought in during his first week at the hospital. " _Too bad_? It is kind of badass, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, if you're into the entire tough guy act. But you, the Golden Boy of Hafuri studio, walking around with a gunshot scar? I ain't buying it."

"Shut up." Yukine felt his ears grow warmer as he slid down the headboard. One day, he'd be able to tell Suzuha why he'd refused his kind offer to use his family's (usually expensive) herbal scar treatments. For now, Yukine was only silently glad to finally bear one mark which held only pride over earning it.

It could have been worse, but it wasn't.

He chucked a flower blossom from the bouquet on the nightstand at the other boy's head.

"Hey! That's no way to treat flowers!" Suzuha carefully nested the petals back into shape. "I worked hard on growing and picking the prettiest flowers just for your sickbed! They deserve better!"

"You'd sell me off to a demon for a lifetime Garden of the Year award."

"I would as long as you keep being this dramatic, drama queen."

"Now, Suzuha, cut the poor boy some slack," a new voice interrupted.

The boys whirled towards the door. Yukine's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Auntie!" Suzuha jumped off the bed and ran to the tall, blonde woman standing in the doorway. "Nice to see you dropping by! Do you need some help with… these... "

Bishamon chuckled at his hardly subtle admiration of a gift basket in her hands. Boxes of chocolates and packages of candy, all decorated with bright purple crepe paper. She let him take it from her. "You could go and offer some to Yukine's nurse. She looked quite envious."

"Yeeah, Yama-chan is a glutton. If I give her some now, she'll remember it forever and never leave me alon-"

"Still, I think it would be nice to let her know her hard work is appreciated. You're not going to force Yukine-kun to do it, right?"

Suzuha straightened and nodded. He was out of the room in a moment, the gift basket disappearing with him.

Bishamon's smile didn't fade as she turned her attention to Yukine.

Yukine gulped.

She tapped the elegant cane in her hand against the stool next to the door. "May I sit?"

He tried to speak, but hiccuped. Embarrassed, he opted for nodding.

He felt ridiculous, even though he knew his anxiety was justified. Days ago, the night he got shot, Hiyori warned him and Yato about Bishamon's borderline obsessive interest in Yato's case. They all agreed it was only a matter of time until she decided to act upon the newest lead: Yukine's mysterious hospital stay.

Yukine thought he'd been prepared for the inevitable one-on-one.

Maybe if she yelled at him, or threatened him. He could have dealt with that. He knew how to put on a stubborn face, how to curse and blame and swerve away from the topic. But he wasn't ready for the warm, gently curious, and overall friendly lady who was now gazing at him across the room.

Hell, he didn't know the dragon woman was even capable of looking this warm, gently curious, _or_ friendly.

"Are you feeling better, Yukine-kun? You've been absent from the club for quite some time..."

"Ah!" He nodded again. He could begin with the truth. "I've been good for around ten days now, but my parents insisted to leave me under observation just in case." Yato used the phrase _keeping out of one's ass hair until the dust settles_ , and Yukine couldn't have agreed more.

Bishamon's smile turned relieved, and it didn't feel forced. "Great! I take it we'll be seeing you back in the garden soon, then?"

"As long as November lets us stay, ma'am."

She nodded. He nodded. She didn't say anything.

In the end, he figured it would be preferable if he approached the theme himself. "It was a pretty nasty wound, though. The doctors said it was rare for a random gunshot to make such damage, and that they hope my parents never let me out past curfew again unless they plan on letting me stroll into another gang showdown with a clear conscience." He chuckled, adding a "As if that idiot could ever catch me leaving if I wished to go for a walk!" for a good measure. He knew he'd been known far and wide for his grumbling over Yato, bonus points for acting like a cocky teenager.

Bishamon frowned. "That's no good, Yukine-kun. After such a misadventure, you should know better than to act so recklessly." _Bingo._

"Yes, ma'am."

"Although, I cannot say I disagree with you disobeying that brat."

There it was, the note of disgust that always accompanied her up until now. It eased his pulse a bit. "Excuse me?"

She leaned forward, the long curtains of hair framing her pale face. She too was nervous. "I am going to be honest with you, Yukine-kun. I don't think that man knows what's best for you, and I have to express my concerns regarding your stay with him."

 _Unbingo._

"Are you implying that..."

"No matter the circumstances surrounding your situation, I would be more than willing to find you a more suitable residence for the time being. You are not the first lost child I've met, you know. I've seen dozens, coming and going, and I did my best to help each and every one of them, each in their own way. There's no need to stoop so low to get help."

There was a kindling of pity in that gaze, setting him on edge. He'd learned to shut down under such a gaze, to lie his way out and hope it worked. _It was a biking accident. Some crazy guy tried to mug me. I fell down the stairs._

But there was no need to feel that way now, he reminded himself. This time, the kindling was wrong. This time, he was fine, truly fine.

Yato gave him so much, without ever asking anything in return. Even after he'd told him his story, he didn't ask him to lie for him. It was something Hiyori and Yukine decided for themselves, to give Yato time until he straightened up his business. A proof of friendship.

And a signed guarantee he'd go through with it.

"You've got it wrong, Bishamon-sama," he worded carefully. "I'm very grateful for your good intentions, but I'm happy as it is now. Yato and I… we are making it work, somehow. And I would prefer it if it didn't change for the time being."

Bishamon's nostrils flared, although it wasn't in anger. She simply seemed confused. She opened her mouth again, but at that moment a basket crashed into her lap.

"See what I told you? She took _everything_!" Suzuha huffed a breath, then glanced from the woman to Yukine and back. "You okay? Auntie, he really is better than a hospitalized man should be. He isn't lying, so don't you worry. But I am not. The candy is gone."

Bishamon was smiling again, ruffling the boy's hair. "Well, then I'd better go get some more, hm? I suppose you'll both be dipping into the chocolate stash."

Suzuha whooped approvingly and threw himself back onto the covers as the woman waved goodbye and left Yukine with a lingering glance.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiyori blew the stray hairs out of her face. _Focus,_ she reminded herself. She wasn't planning on topping off this _perfect_ day with a drop out of the window.

Off the facade of the window? Technically, she wasn't inside. So falling _out_ of anything would be weird, wouldn't it?

All of a sudden, the window flew open, missing her forehead by a centimeter.

"Is that you, H- Hiyori! What! Are you _doing_?"

It didn't really occur to her sneaking in could have been a good prank opportunity. The expression Yato wore as he stared at her leaned over the window sill hit her as funny. She laughed.

"Sorry. Heh. May I come in?"

"Sure? Daikoku and Kofuku are downstairs with the kids." He stood by as she swung her legs inside, thankful for the change in temperature. This other coat was far more comfortable back in September. "They won't come up for at least an hour. Although I think it's time Kofuku started thinking about maternity, all that jumping cannot be too good for the poor kid, he might emerge with a bump crown-"

"I know. That's why I didn't go through the door. And stop talking, please." She sat down next to his futon and an open magazine, which she flipped through. "Maybe we are kind of awkward right now, but I honestly believe what I've got to tell you can fix that. Sort of."

Yato crossed his arms, eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you… Hiyori are you feeling okay?"

"Not really, but I'll get to that in a second. Now-"

"I mean, you're very... talkative, I suppose."

"Oh." She squinted at the ceiling, a bit annoyed. "Must be the beer."

"The-" he coughed, dropping into a crouch. "The beer? Are you a teen rebel of a sudden?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I am neither teen, nor a rebel. My birthday passed months ago. I'm sad, not stupid."

"You want to say- Hold on, this is a bit much." He waved, betrayal in his face. "You mean to say you didn't tell us?"

"I forgot."

"You don't _forget_ such things! Oh, Kofuku will be _livid_ \- she's been depressed about not being able to attend your first girls' night out for weeks!"

"Well, I didn't have one. So. She has nothing to be sad about." Yama-chan was younger than her, and she made Hiyori and Ami-chan promise they'd wait for her so they could celebrate the occasion together.

Not that Hiyori ever truly considered such an endeavor especially alluring anyway.

"Well, obviously. Because then you'd know drinking alone is a loser's move." Yato jumped to his feet, suddenly energetic, and ran to the fridge. "You feeling okay with another one? To do it right at least part of the way, _ma'am_?"

Not that Hiyori ever truly considered _running to Yato_ for such an endeavor especially alluring. But for the first time in a while there was nothing pressing into his smile. His expression was clear and gleeful, free of the guilt he seemed to bear like second skin lately.

And in any case, beer was much more pleasant to the tongue than she'd expected.

She shrugged. "Sure. Gimme one."

He whooped, cannonballing a can at her.

"Effortless reflexes, just as I taught you! And now, we can begin a new class, too: Yato-sama's Drinking Directions!"

"I'd rather avoid passing out in the bathroom in a pool of tears, thank you."

"Mean." Yato dropped onto the floor next to her, single-handedly cracking his own can open. "Now. What did you want to talk about?"

Oh. Right.

Well, there was no nice way to say it.

"My father and brother know about us. They are pretty intent on killing you."

Yato let out a snorting sound and dissolved into a fit of coughs. He didn't give up on speaking, though, but she could pick out little aside from some choice profanities and "what"s.

"Well, not Father. But Masaomi is maaad."

"What..." He wheezed, palming at the tears in his eyes. "What did you tell them?"

"I didn't tell them anything." She sipped on her drink, focused on a folded corner of the unkept magazine at her feet. She didn't feel like crying again, so she needed to set her mind to other things. "Father said that he would tell Mother if I didn't pick up the phone, so I suppose neither did she. And that brings us to the question: Where _did_ they hear it?"

"A-aren't you upset about it, Hiyori?"

"What? No. I wanted to know who told them, so I called around. Yama-chan didn't. Yukine-kun didn't. He was pretty confused. Kazuma-san doesn't know anything about it, either. And then I'd have hit a dead end, since the inside circle isn't that big. But then my phone rang, and you'd never guess who it was."

Yato shook his head, one hand still pressed against his throat.

She took another sip. "Your dad."

The sound of the can hitting the floorboards ringed through the air.

"No."

She could very well hear the _Not again_ in his voice.

"Yato, calm down."

"Hiyori." His fingers dug into the cracks between the boards. "No."

"I know. I was terrified, too."

The cold, precise voice calling a sound of gunshot into her ears. _It was me, little ayakashi._

 _How?_ she'd asked.

 _Magic_ , he'd replied. _I'm special that way._

"We need to- we need to hide you, Hiyori. If he found your parents, he knows everything already. We have no time to-"

"Yato. Listen to me."

He stilled, halfway ducking under the pressure of her nails on his shoulders.

"We knew this was coming. The moment you told me the truth, we'd all realized it was only a matter of time. And do you remember what Yukine said?"

Yato kept his eyes on her knuckles. Scarred. Dotted with beverage spray.

"I'm in over my head already. We know this. We cannot fix it anymore."

"I'm just..." He took a deep breath, and shudder passed through his bones. "I don't want it to be like that."

"I know. But we have a head start now, don't we? We know what he's capable of, and-"

"And what?"

"And we'll- Oh, Yato." She eased her hold, smoothing out wrinkles in his T-shirt sleeves instead. "We will get through this. That man has enjoyed a life of abuse and neglect and ruining children's lives. Don't think for a second he'll get away with it. You know what happened to Yukine's father. And it was only us, you and me and Yukine and your heart. And I know you- you've tried to stop him before, by telling Kazuma-san-" His gaze hardened. "-but this time will be different. You are no longer a lonely eighteen-year-old. You are stronger now. You have people who support you and believe in you."

"... You're right."

"I am!"

"What happened to that son of a bitch, Warner..." Now, Yato was gazing over her shoulder, absent-mindedly shrugging her hands away. A new sort of warmth emitted from him.

"What are you thinking?"

"It's- too early. But gimme a moment, just to collect- yes. Okay." He clapped, turning towards the fridge again. "Let's refill. I think imma need some juice to work this out."

Hiyori followed the two spilled cans rolling down the floor. What a waste.

But Yato was feeling better, and he was willing to fight for the first time since she'd met him, and her message got across.

Well, most of it, anyways.

Sometime after the sounds of giggles and yelling subdued from the dojo downstairs, she finally decided to drive her confession fully home.

"To be honest… Losing their trust is the worst part, and I am very sad about it."

Yato glanced up. "Your family?"

She nodded, setting herself lower on the windowsill. "All my life, we had a great relationship. I never lied. I was a good daughter, I think. And my brother joked all the time about protecting me and not ever letting me out of his sight, but in truth he trusted me a lot. Always let me find my own way. And… I don't wanna lose that." The long repressed tears finally muscled their way to the surface. "Uuh… Sorry." _And I've worked so hard._ She couldn't find it inside herself to wipe them away.

She felt a flutter of touch on her dangling ankle. Then, a full, gentle grip.

"I don't think yer gonna lose that with- a single fight, Hiyori."

"How would you know?"

"Y'still aren't givin' up on me. After all my fuck-ups. So, if the Ikis are anythin' like you… You'll get through it. You just gotta call."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"I cannot call them yet. It is not safe to contact them now."

"I know. But ya will. You'll see."

And then, with the moonlight illuminating the silent room, the two-and-a-half portions of beer warming her belly and fresh tears chilling her cheeks, she found the feeling of fingers playing along her ankle unbearably pleasant.

"Yato?"

"Hm?"

"I should be courageous, shouldn't I?"

"Y'always are."

"Then..." She dropped a hand to his fingers.

He stilled.

Waited a brath. Two.

"Hiyori…?"

"I'm asking… I guess I'm asking if..." She didn't trust him to catch her meaning from the gesture alone. Hell, she wasn't sure she herself understood completely. It was new, and weird, and not at all what she'd imagined - now, she could finally accept she _did_ like to imagine it quite a bit. "I do not know what am I supposed to do with all the things I've been feeling when we're together like this, but if you'd be willing to help me figure it out… I'd be glad."

He stayed silent for so long she'd be scared if she wasn't being courageous.

"... Holy fuck. Am I- Is this a dream?"

She laughed. "You drank double the dose I did, so trust me when I tell you it is not."

"Yer a lightweight, _so_."

"It is not _so_."

"Aren't ya scared?"

And that was an answer in itself.

 _Won't you run?_ he'd asked.

 _I want to,_ she'd replied and cut the line. Then, she went to the store for some beer.

"We'll get through it, but we need to do as Yukine says. We have to keep together. We have to trust each other. And that's why I'm here now. That's why I'm talking about it all. To be courageous."

"I wanna do it, too." He nodded again. "I wish could soak up some of that courage."

"You can." She flicked her nose. "Well. Not Literally. But figuratively speaking. You know."

"..."

"What are you thinking?"

"... Oh, nothin'. Ya should drink more often. Yer talk is still impec- per- very good but also more mean and true."

"Shut up. Please."

She drifted to sleep still thinking of the burning fingertips.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Quite early for such nutrition choices, is it not?"

Viina jumped, the glass slamming against the table surface. Recognizing him, she hurriedly rubbed at the collision spot. "Please, Kazuma. It's nine PM."

Kazuma leaned against her chair. "And you have a nine-thirty class tonight."

"... Oh, dammit."

He set the stack of papers he was carrying next to the bottle. "I took care of it."

"I know you did, but I cannot- it is unbefitting of me to- I cannot believe it."

He glanced down at her crumpled form. If sitting around in a dark office clouded with the stench of alcohol wasn't an indicator by itself, the unexpected tardiness proved what he'd been dreading for weeks now.

"And this is supposed to be the part where you try to convince me to trust that _annoyance_ to be my substitute." She leaned against the headrest, her attention on his face. "So, I'm listening."

Kazuma reached for a strand of hair soaking in the dark liquid. "Would I be wrong to assume mentioning Yato is the last thing you want me to do right now?"

"No," she hiccuped unhappily, "but I need to talk about it anyway so… whatever, really."

"All right. But I am getting you some water first."

She didn't protest, but when he returned, he found another glass filled to the middle on his own desk. He left the water pitcher next to it, but didn't sit. He didn't deserve to rest.

"It used to be so, so simple, you know. There was a goal, straight ahead of me. I was so sure, so confident I would see the day of justice arrive, and nothing could have convinced me otherwise. It wasn't even an upbeat sort of encouragement. I've raged. I've cried. I've imagined peeling the skin off of that unknown villain again, and again, and again. But the knowledge that Tama-chan might rest in peace once I've fulfilled my duty was always there, just out of my reach. It felt comforting just to know it was there. Because _he_ was there, and I knew he held the key." Viina took another gulp, this time not even bothering with the glass. The bottle shattered the streetlight into green caleidoscope flecks across her fair skin. Her voice was rough when she continued. "But now? I cannot even bring myself to think it anymore. I should know how to spot a deadlock. I've created a career on it."

Kazuma didn't dwell on his speeding heartbeat. Sliding his glasses up his nose, he asked: "What happened?"

She let out a weak sound. Horrified, he identified it as a sob. "The boy happened. I talked to Yukine-kun tonight. You know I've never wanted anything but to help all the children stumbling upon my doorstep. You keep reminding me how our budget suffers because of it every month, after all. But this time, this time I'm starting to think I'm… What if I'm wrong?"

"You mean..."

"The boy _loves him_." She threw her arms up in the air, the empty glass rolling across the wood. "It's clear once you look deeper. All this time I thought it was only a matter of time until he would give up, realise he deserved better than a tiny, stuffy attic and a man with more secrets than wits. But even Yato, the bastard, gave the boy something to fight for, something I could have never given him. I have been blessed with such convenience and resources, but what use do I have of them when it comes down to it?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" Kazuma ran his finger along the thin rim of his glass. "Not understanding what is it the two share? Because I can tell you, it is not something you yourself are unable to give."

"It is. It truly is. But I'm not upset about that- I'm bothered because- Because _Yato_ of all people-"

"Because Yato has been the bulletin board culprit for so long you aren't sure what to do now that he's closer to your own ideas of decency than you'd think?"

Viina growled. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Despite himself, Kazuma smiled lightly. "It's not something to be ashamed of, Viina."

"The demon is better than me. How should I not be ashamed." Oh, she certainly was drunk.

"He isn't. You are both good at your respective, very different jobs."

"I suppose it's time to… take care of the board, then."

Once upon a time, the suggestion would have been the booming conclusion of his wildest dreams.

"You were right. I am holding onto the ghosts of the past. But why does it… Why does it feel like I'm betraying Tama-chan, then? Why does it…" The tears weren't falling now. They haven't for years now. "Oh, Kazuma. What am I doing?"

Kazuma moved behind her seat again, his hands clasped behind his back. He refused to let the tremors seize them. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that for you, Viina."

She leaned her head against his elbow. There was no tranquility in his stillness. "You always have. You were always there to show me the way. I haven't trusted you enough when it came to this subject, and you did nothing to deserve such treatment. So I'm asking you now: what am I supposed to do?"

 _If I told you the truth right now, or what I am assuming is the truth, you would never trust me again._

So for once he remained mute, an anchor in the raging ocean of streetlamps.


End file.
